My Love
by Novoux
Summary: A series of random moments, ones that mean more than Shizuo or Izaya are willing to divest in the full meaning of and stick to teasing the other.
1. Cold

Wintertime is not the best time of the year, no matter the pretty lights decorating houses in a tradition of imitating an American holiday for the twelfth month of the year. All the rainbows of blinking or blindingly bright lights which sink like migraines waiting to begin. Perfect nasty traps for those unsuspecting of any danger, especially when precariously dumped into a freezing puddle that is most assuredly _not _completely frozen. Izaya learns this the hard way and surfaces with a long gash down his forehead to his ear and soaked to the bone in ice water, clothes sopping wet with dirty water from a bad part of the sidewalk.

All of this, just to walk to Shizu-chan's apartment. It's not fair how these coincidences happen when he's not actually planning much of anything at all besides eating some form of dinner and going to bed. Also including stealing all of Shizuo's warmth and blankets for which he plans to hold hostage, but Shizuo doesn't need to know even his best-laid plans.

So this is utterly_ fantastic, _too far from his apartment and any main road to head back or use a taxi and he happens to know there is a warm shower and extra change of winter clothes available for him at the beast's apartment. Sniffling and shuffling on his feet is even harder but he presses on, motivated by the fact he will either force Shizuo to get him warm as soon as possible or will raise hell and all of its icy waters that infest streets and terrorize unsuspecting pedestrians. It could be just him—but Izaya is one for sharing misery if he can benefit from it.

A sneeze rips from his throat, violently forcing his arm to cover his mouth and shaking from where he stands, sliding on a rough patch of ice with a dangerous spark of adrenaline surging from his heels. When he doesn't fall he breathes a stuffy sigh, hating the fact he knows the cold may as well curse him with a cold and leave him aching and tired for a week. Anything to ruin his day already taking a sharp turn for the worse, not to mention the biting wind sinking into his bones.

Especially the wind—doing more than nipping but sinking its teeth into every layer of clothes he's wearing and shaking his bones, forcing heavy shivers to wrack his body every other second he is not focused on the icy road in front of him. Shizuo's apartment isn't so far from here and by now the chill will kill him, an interesting thought as being done in by _wind _instead of an actual monster.

Sneezing once again Izaya shakes his head, having to sniffle and another sneeze tickles his nose for brief seconds, forcing him to double over—which he learns later to be a terrible mistake—as soon as he slips and loses his footing, crashing into the ground with a cracking sound that he hopes to be ice and grumbles as he accepts his fate. The blood oozing from his head feels heavier at this point, slipping into his eyes which he removes his hands from his pockets to wipe away, coming back with heavier streaks of blood painting his bluish-purple hands. Soot stains darken his skin from the many times of having to grab onto something, feeling sick by the cold and overall malaise from exposure. And if Shizu-chan so wishes it, he may just freeze to death right then and there, exposed to the rest of the quiet world of falling snow.

Izaya's eyelids slide shut for a minute, head pounding to blinding sparks of light instead of the regular glow of lights lining the walls of an apartment complex. He doesn't think about it for a minute, choosing to savor his aching head and holding still while the bleeding slows down and he can think clearly.

Despite the cold outside Izaya doesn't feel it as much anymore, soaked into his bones and his entire body chattering without his knowledge. The first signs of burning up in his clothes are a bad thing, he knows, but he'll only be out for another minute. Nothing to worry about.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Except that. And 'that' includes a familiar low growl, shortly before Izaya finds himself scooped up much like a princess and deciding to protest loudly until a scarf is thrown in his face, obstructing his vision while his body he can barely feel, moving to be adjusted by the one and only blond monster of Ikebukuro. A very angry one, by the sound of it. "It's cold as shit outside, so you decide to take a nap? What's gotten into you?" By this point Shizu-chan probably hasn't realized the main point when they start moving once again, Izaya not wanting to get blood stained into the scarf Shizu-chan has so _graciously _offered and risk an ear-splitting argument.

That all changes, however, when the door to Shizuo's apartment opens and shuts behind them, instant warmth feeling like a shock in the sudden change of temperature. Izaya shudders despite himself, teeth chattering even when he presses the scarf into his mouth. After all, listening to the quickened heartbeat of a monster for so long, having to take the stairs up and dizzy all the while, he can't help that Shizu-chan's annoying tendencies of attempting to be human have imparted side effects. Such as the sniffle and sneeze Izaya catches himself in, once again, only to experience Shizuo's arms around him tightening to an almost suffocating point.

"Shit, you're bleeding." Thankfully Shizu-chan can manage at least _some _of an accurate thought before he does anything else, though it doesn't help that Izaya is still being held like some dainty girl instead of being put down this instant. "What the fuck were you doing outside? Trying to get yourself killed?" Something else comes in a growl along the lines of Shizuo doing it for him, to lop his head off while the bathroom door squeak as it pushes open.

"W-would it be p-possible for y-you t-to put me d-down, or a-are you going to make this d-difficult?" Izaya shivers, twisting in the iron grip of Shizu-chan and dizzy from the light overhead, throwing a hand over his eyes and wiping away more blood. The beast growls, of course, to which Izaya figures it's not worth arguing over when Shizuo at least sits him on the closed toilet, running the bath after closing the door.

He's expecting the barrage of questions. "What the hell happened?" Shizuo retrieves a towel from under the sink, getting it wet and pressing it to Izaya's gash and it doesn't look like he's moving until he gets an answer. "You're shivering and bleeding from your head—do you even think at all, dumbass?" Shizuo presses a bit too hard and Izaya grabs his wrist, cringing from the force. "Sorry, sorry," he immediately pardons himself and leaves Izaya to hold onto the towel, making sure to wipe off the excess blood.

Izaya doesn't like how close Shizuo is, running a hand under the water before turning on the shower head. The dumb brute keeps eying him like he's going to break and it frustrates the informant to no end, already dealing with a biting headache pounding into his vision. Watching Shizuo move to tug at his vest makes his eyes widen, mind buzzing with the still in his thoughts before he can make sense of what the brute is planning. "What are you doing, Shizu-chan?" The question is redundant because Shizuo's vest and shirt come off in the second he finishes asking, placed on the counter top and Izaya suddenly does not agree with this situation.

"N-no, no, you're n-not bathing with me." Izaya pushes Shizuo away as soon as a hand comes back to the towel pressed against his head, hissing in distaste. "I've had e-enough dealing with the m-monster outside." A shiver crawls through his spine, clicking through his vertebrae. "Get out, Sh-Shizu-chan." He glares, hoping to send the message clearly while his head keeps pounding. Right now is not the time for the beast's stupid games when he's freezing cold and bleeding from his head.

Shizuo scoffs, hands already on Izaya's shirt and a look that threatens the informant with a simple cock of his head. "Either you take it off, or I do. Whatever you do, you're going to get a shower and I'm not leaving you alone. Deal with it." Sighing, Izaya tips his head back and Shizuo peels off the jacket, sopping wet and muddy which makes a wet slap when it falls on the floor, following Izaya's shirt and Shizuo's scarf, bloodied despite Izaya's best efforts. When he reaches Izaya's belt the informant sends him a glare, clicking it off himself and taking his good time with his jeans, though freezing and not all that caring when Shizuo rips them off, knowing they're damaged beyond repair with the tears in the fabric.

"Hell, it looks like you drowned in a lake." Shizuo whistles low, removing his own pants with much more ease and one hand comes to Izaya's chin, stealing a kiss before the louse can scowl and bat him away, shivering with as icy cold as his skin is. The brute's arms wrap around Izaya, pulling him up and reluctantly into the shower, Izaya growling a string of expletives involving how stupid Shizuo is when the hot water starts to burn his skin. His nails, sure enough, scrape into Shizuo's back and leave welts when he claws the monster with the burn of the lukewarm water, not directly in the spray like the idiot is.

Shizuo's lips are against his ear, rubbing Izaya's arms with his hands to bring back circulation. "Let me know if you feel faint, bastard. Don't want you passing out on me." His fingers brush at Izaya's eye, pink water starting to stain the water that drains.

Izaya rolls his eyes, too cold to say much but happy to steal all of Shizuo's body heat, lying against him while the shower water gets warmer. For now he could care less, dealing with Shizuo too much commitment and not enough enthusiasm to care whether or not the beast holds onto him like he always does, being so dramatic for no reason and holding onto him _this _tight as if to mock him from the stronger pulse in Shizuo's chest, thudding against his ear with his head lying on the blond's shoulder. Eyes closed he doesn't think about much, huddled for warmth and no other reason other than the fact Shizu-chan probably won't let him go anyway.

Just like him, being the devolved protozoan idiot that holds onto him like a possession and entirely too close for comfort, not enough room to breathe when Shizuo's hands wet his hair and hold him too close, too much feeling in not wanting to feel the warmth not from the shower water. And to teach him a lesson Izaya moves his head to the side, catching Shizuo's lips whether he wants to or not and nipping his lower lip, soon learning that impulsive actions like this are not a good idea if wanting to live while showering.

Shizuo kisses him, gentle touches and Izaya hates how uncomfortable the sudden lack of space between them is, how natural it feels to kiss and be in the same space with someone who should be an enemy. Times change—he doesn't know what to think.

At least his headache is subsiding. "Such a beast, Shizu-chan."

The laugh that vibrates onto his tongue makes him flush—not from the cold.

* * *

_A series for my dearest Mama Shizuwan, an unfortunate guinea pig of mine who deals with all of my strange, cruel, and adorable ideas. Love you, Mama Shizuwan/PendulumDeath. _

_Thank you for reading._


	2. Dance with Me

There is no reason for this—none at all, when Shizuo finds himself being poked and pinched at until the blankets are ripped off of him. It's midnight, he later comes to realize with a groan and finds himself on his back, Izaya holding himself above him with a devious smirk playing on his lips. Just because it's the flea he leans up and steals a kiss, surprised to find that Izaya's head dips with him and his body weight settles on Shizuo's chest, lips caressing his with an unexpected source of gentle touch. But as soon as his eyelids slip shut and he wants to enjoy this kiss even more, Izaya pulls away, red eyes glimmering and looking tired.

He narrows his eyes, raising a hand to ruffle Izaya's hair and questions whether or not if the flea has slept at all. "What are you up to? Can't sleep?" he murmurs, peppering kisses on Izaya's throat with practiced ease, letting him rest for a minute while Shizuo's hands have free access to the expanse of his back, fingers riding up Izaya's T-shirt that happens to be borrowed as well as smell like Shizuo.

"Bored. And I want to do something." That counts as an affirmative, blinking sleepily and pushing himself off of Shizuo before he rolls and finds his footing on the floor of his bedroom. Shizuo watches as Izaya stretches himself, rubbing his arms even though it's not cold at all—the flea is skinny enough, of course. He glances back at Shizuo, raising an inquisitive eyebrow and extending a curled set of fingers, beckoning Shizuo to leave the comfortable warmth of the bed for whatever the flea is planning. "Come on, ne? I want to show you something."

This leaves room to ask even more questions, Shizuo getting out of bed and barely any time to stretch when the informant bounces out of the room, door left open and disappearing down the hallway. And as the current and future boyfriend of the devious little shit, the blond follows him out like a lost puppy—which is as true as he doesn't want to believe it is. But when he catches those pale legs clad in the shorts he wears, it's incentive to keep going after him.

Shadows dance in the moonlight casting them from the massive windows in the living room, Izaya moving from light to darkness and back to standing in front of his desk, bathed in the eerie glow. Shizuo rubs his eyes, blinking at Izaya who is poised, still and barely moving save for the rise and fall of his chest. At first Shizuo is not sure what is going on, that is until he hears music faintly starting to rise in the background. And just as he hears it Izaya dips back, legs coming out while his back bends over the desk and his head falls, exposing the pale skin of his lily-white throat.

_You're just too good to be true,_ _can't take my eyes off of you,_

As the voice starts Izaya slowly moves, pulling himself up and his body moves with a smooth wave, sinuous as he comes to stand and starts walking, almost sliding on the floor when his hips sway and his eyes are locked on Shizuo's, glittering with the malicious intentions he always cooks up. The song he doesn't recognize, barely understanding the words but the swish and sway of Izaya's body conveys some of the meaning, along with that impish smile that never fades.

Izaya dances up to him, stopping an inch in front of him and then suddenly turns, back against Shizuo's chest and his head resting on the blond's shoulder. "I'll teach you salsa, ne? This would be a good time to practice."

Disregarding the fact that it's midnight and the flea hasn't slept at all in several days, Shizuo sighs and shakes his head, knowing it pointless to ask why he wants to do these things and where he gets these ideas. But since he's too tired to complain and Izaya doesn't look tired enough to go back to sleep he obliges, taking the hand that has been snaking into his fingers and giving Izaya a kiss on the throat, feeling the rumble of Izaya's laugh because Shizuo happens to know that he's ticklish.

_You'd be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much,_

"You seriously need to consider getting some sleep." Shizuo mentions when Izaya takes his hand and moves it to his back, moving Shizuo's other one to between his shoulder blades, snaking his arms around the brute and moving them to certain places. Izaya laughs him off anyway, leading them to the middle of the room while the music keeps playing, Izaya humming along to the foreign tune that sounds older than modern music. In the center of the room they stop, Izaya starting to sway his body in Shizuo's grasp, moving his feet and Shizuo's with his—_not_ so gently—to start the slow pace.

_But if you feel like I feel, please let me know that it's real,_

"And you need to learn how to move, beast. So uncoordinated." Izaya grows bolder as soon as Shizuo gets the basics down, moving to the music where his hands catch Shizuo's and he moves slower than the actual dance tempo, waiting for the blond to catch up to him. "You're so stiff and no fun at all. Making me do all the work, how rude of you," he teases, moving a hand to Shizuo's hip and pressing him in the right direction, demonstrating with himself how to follow the lead he sets. Shizuo growls something unintelligible that Izaya doesn't care to hear as long as he can smirk and dance away, swaying his hips while his upper body stays relatively still in the true salsa dancing fashion.

_I love you baby, and if it's quite all right,_

Izaya takes Shizuo's hand to spin himself, moving in a relatively slow circle for Shizuo to catch the cues, more adept at being able to move and still awkward with his feet. His upper body still moves and Izaya slaps him when he messes up, tempting the beast to call it quits and or enact some of the frustration starting to build up. But it doesn't take much to calm it, leaning in close to Shizuo and sealing a kiss between them, warm and slow before Izaya peels away, moving them in the area of the circle for their dancing range.

"Don't blame me if you fall over asleep," Shizuo grumbles, moving reluctantly with Izaya but watching as Izaya smiles, the malice not present in one of the genuine ones he always tries to achieve. "You're boring me to death." Trying to get another kiss makes Izaya pull away just in time to execute another twirl, coming back with his back to Shizuo's chest once again and his feet between the blond's while controlling the pace. It's far from professional and barely manages to look decent—but Izaya keeps his eyes on Shizuo's, as heavy as his are.

_I need you baby, to warm the lonely nights,_

Then Izaya spins around, one hand resting low on Shizuo's back and his other clasping in Shizuo's hand, the beast managing to follow his lead and try to get the same placement, awkward and uncoordinated. It makes Izaya laugh with the sound of uncontaminated amusement, not in making fun or in cruelty but the actual sound of him enjoying himself and his antics, no matter how ridiculous they are like dancing in Izaya's spacious apartment at midnight. Most other people have the common sense to sleep, though they've never been normal ones.

Shizuo notices that Izaya doesn't say anything, keeping the movement between them now to a simple sway, turning in a slower circle while his head rests on Shizuo's shoulder, soft breaths making the difference in the silence than one of being unsure as to what to say. He'll never make excuses for himself, Shizuo doesn't care to hear them. "So what's with the brilliant idea to wake me up? I was sleeping until you decided to come along and drag me out of bed for this."

_And let me love you, baby, let me love you..._

"No reason at all," he sighs, humming along to the song even if the sound grows weaker, head resting on Shizuo and his eyes are closed, moving as Shizuo takes the lead in the silly dance of theirs. "Maybe it's not fair monsters get to sleep in my apartment, so I make sure that Shizu-chan gets as little as I do." Annoying little shit. At least he's honest, as depressing as that is when he smiles with all barbs and plenty of bite.

Shizuo's arms wrap around him, pulling him close and Izaya's feet on top of his, moving them when the flea suddenly realizes he's not on ground. He squirms in Shizuo's grasp, failing his attempt to get away and accepts his fate, more or less reluctant to be held so easily by the monstrous strength of Shizuo. Shizuo mainly finds that Izaya's the one who falls into his own traps, setting ones for Shizuo to take and if he gets kisses and things like this, then it won't matter who loses the game.

"You have a shitty taste in doing things at midnight." Shizuo murmurs into Izaya's ear, licking the shell and enjoying the shudder he elicits too much for his own good. "Because I have a few ideas besides this we can try." Izaya squirms again, tumbling off Shizuo's feet but still caught by the blond when he scowls, cheeks a mysteriously darker color and hidden in the shadows reflecting onto him.

And then Shizuo pulls in close, breaths ghosting Izaya's ear and feeling the shudder in his hands. "Like sleeping."

Izaya glances at him, incredulous only for half of a second before he rolls his eyes, laughing even when Shizuo kisses him, only quieted by a strange squeaking noise that comes from his throat when Shizuo licks his tongue and sucks on it. The bastard closes his mouth, forcing Shizuo's tongue out when he finally gets to enjoy something and sticks his tongue out in disgust, glaring pointedly. The entire effect, however, is killed by the marks of insomnia under his eyes and the fact he's not pretending to hate this.

"So stupid," Izaya murmurs and his head rests back on Shizuo's shoulder, their slow turning coming to a halt as Shizuo holds him close, warm and making the lack of sleep weigh heavily in his bones. He doesn't finish the thought, eyes closing again and his arms tightening around the stupid beast for any reason at all, or to protest when Shizuo wants to pick him up again.

A kiss presses to his eyelid, fingers brushing his hair back and planting even more kisses down his brow line and ending with one to his nose. Scrunching it doesn't dispel the sensation in his chest, almost suffocating but trembling with an anxious feel that isn't a bad thing, but it certainly isn't a good thing.

"Really stupid," Shizuo agrees, smirking as he stills for a moment, feeling tired once again. "Never do that again. Absolutely hated it."

Izaya laughs, a hiccup of one and the red shade on the tip of his ear isn't Shizuo's imagination. "Duly noted. Now to piss Shizu-chan off even more."

"Gonna take a lot of kisses and you blushing to make that happen. Or you could keep serenading me with that stupid dance of yours." The flea scowls, burying his head further into Shizuo's throat while the blond laughs.

Izaya doesn't think Shizuo can hear the heart thumping heavily in his chest.

* * *

_These two are so adorable. I love writing them, especially when Shizuo is so caring and doesn't realize how much it affects Izaya. Or perhaps, the other way around..._

_Thank you for reading._


	3. Holes in Walls

Russia Sushi is quiet on Saturday evenings mainly because of a phenomenon known as the strongest of Ikebukuro—and perhaps the most terrifying on opposite sides of the spectrum—walk in, sit at a booth, and no one becomes a casualty. Throughout the experiences, at least every Saturday evening in the month, the occurrence still feels new and shaky on its legs. The facets not seen by others are much more unstable, like the linking of fingers in trying something new beneath the table. One order of ootoro and one order of some type of sushi that involves sweeter things to start the night, as per usual.

Simon shares some joke, always in Russian that translates badly to Japanese and Izaya laughs, hiding his face when Shizuo decides to ask but then uncovering the impish grin, laughing at Shizuo's innate ability to not understand the context of any situation. Mainly because Simon is horrible at telling jokes and or strange stories that don't have any purpose, but perhaps he's waiting to see how one of them would react. The rest of the town has been holding in that breath for so long, watching for either to slip up and reveal some sort of elaborate prank and then begin chase.

It hasn't, yet. Not for almost six months by next week. People are confused and curious and ask too many questions. Shizuo doesn't care, Izaya makes one retort or another and sometimes Shizuo kisses Izaya when he thinks no one is looking to "shut him up" even if Izaya hasn't said a word at all. He thinks more than enough for the two of them, thoughts bursting a million miles a minute and always smirking like the clever demon he esteems himself to be. Shizuo has a fun time knocking him down a couple notches, if it means stealing affectionate touches he doesn't like to show in public. It's even better, because they make Izaya's face contort into a sour look and a warning of _knock it off._

Tonight is like any other, Russia Sushi mainly empty this late at night—it's only two hours before midnight, plenty of things to do like have a late lunch-dinner-date at the one and only place Izaya deems acceptable for these sorts of occasions. Simon doesn't interrupt much while he and Dennis quietly talk back and forth on the wonders of an early season in Japan. Perhaps even the cherry blossoms will bloom with much more intensity this year, if the strange events continue on.

Izaya picks at his ootoro, making a show of disgusting Shizuo who happens to hate tuna and everything to do with it by taking a slice off of the rice, dangling it in front of Shizuo and smirking when the blond threatens to make sure he can never have his delicious ootoro again. But then Shizuo doesn't lunge at him when he snaps the fish into his own mouth, smirking at Shizuo all the while as he chews around the fatty flesh. His eyes flutter in contentment, putting on a show of making the soft noises Simon and Dennis pretend to not hear. It's better if they don't get involved, as violence is much worse than two lovers.

Unless if they happen to be fighting, in which they always are over something when Shizuo growls something at Izaya again, batting away the juicy piece of ootoro Izaya dangles over him like expecting the blond to grab at it like a cat. Which fails miserably, resulting in Izaya sighing when his game is not so fun anymore and munching on the not as good rice. Sticky and retaining the taste of ootoro, which always makes him purr in delight.

"You sound like a cat, flea." Shizuo comments, managing his mystery sushi with surprising ease of one chopstick because Izaya has something to do with the other and its whereabouts. Neither are sure entirely of where it went. Izaya only laughs at this because it's true, purring low in his throat before snatching another piece of ootoro and savoring the delectable taste. "And now people are going to think I'm fucking my cat," he says, Izaya promptly choking on the ootoro so blissfully sliding down his throat because _now _is the time Shizuo decides to practice his comedic genius (or lack thereof) while Izaya coughs, trying to swallow the pieces lodged in his throat.

It takes a concerned look from Shizuo before he realizes something is wrong. Mainly from Izaya not breathing and his face turning red while he gasps and coughs, head bowed to the table. Shizuo is up and nearly knocking the table over when Simon glances to check on them. He never knows what's going to happen and it only happens to be a normal night of Shizuo tries to calm Izaya down—apparently he has been laughing the whole time with tuna lodged in his throat as soon as Shizuo looks confused as to why Izaya's choking.

As long as Izaya's throat clears and he calms down no one is particularly worried, uncomfortably close to Shizuo and growling that they're in public before Shizuo kisses him, fully and fingers under Izaya's chin like a careful brush when he gives a kiss like it's an accident. Even better when no one expects these things and no one is here except for Dennis who's in the back washing dishes. Simon looks on, murmuring a recitation of an old story to himself while he cleans up the cuts for tomorrow and prepares the special dishes for the menu.

"Sh-Shizu..." Izaya makes a sound suspiciously like a moan, never breaking away when he has the chance. The blond growls something back in irritation, along the lines of telling the informant to shut up even when their lips connect and Shizuo still complains that Izaya tastes bad. There is still food left on their plates and a night spared for them so Shizuo has the common courtesy of letting Izaya finish his meal, moving back to his side of the booth.

But it doesn't stop the game of dangling fish pieces in front of Shizuo, instructing the blond to open his mouth. "Say 'ah', Shizu-chan," Izaya hears himself say and it's not even strange at this point when everything else they do is. Shizuo doesn't oblige until a noise from underneath the table suspiciously sounding like a kick makes him grunt and grudgingly take the piece of fish, holding it on his tongue and looking furious while Izaya laughs at his own talent of "taming the beast". Simon and Shizuo both know how much he hates tuna and the look of self-control is one that makes any other man uneasy in the knees. Simon finds it to be an interesting omen.

Then Izaya surges forward, fisting Shizuo's uniform shirt he still wears in his slender fingers, tongue pressing into Shizuo's mouth and Simon politely looks away before then, not wanting to disturb the moments of peace that are only descending upon Ikebukuro in the later hours of the night. The nights of hiding Shizuo's attempts of holding Izaya's hands in his and exchanging kisses do not affect the fact that the city property will still suffer his wrath. Nor will it convince Izaya to leave him alone and stop provoking terror in the hearts of many who do not realize Shizuo is more than a monster.

Simon finds that the damage has lessened, especially when there are no bones being broken in his restaurant. He considers today a lucky day as he moves to take their plates, empty or nearly there and asks if they'd like sake. Considering the Russian knows the answer at this point—Izaya scrambling to get away from Shizuo's hold, keeping in the smile of knowing too much than they want to share, doesn't say a word when Shizuo promptly says they'll be fine without.

And for tonight Simon gives them an on the house discount, just because he has never seen quite like the sight of a knife to the throat and a hand on the other, drawn at a standpoint on a matter so meaningless as who pays the bill and who _deserves _to.

There are things, Simon and Dennis decide as their last customers leave, others aren't meant to see.

When Izaya pulls his hood up and Shizuo down to his level, he knows that no one else is watching and Russia Sushi is in the far distance, lips brushing and tasting of ootoro.

And then he darts off, starting the cycle of fighting once again as Shizuo roars and wakes the neighborhood.

* * *

_Silly little thing just for fun, like the moments one isn't supposed to see.  
_

_Thank you for reading._


	4. Metamorphosis

Laundry day is the worst possible day to ever be in Shizuo's apartment. Mainly because of the pillows and blankets and _other _objects lying around because the blond monster is messy and some of the things he unearths while making trips to the laundry room downstairs. So it's unlikely for Izaya to be hanging around for no reason at all, other than pissing off the beast.

Or so he tells himself.

Right now Izaya lazes on Shizuo's couch while the brute makes trips up and downstairs, never bothering to make any attempt to _help _him because that would mean getting up instead of watching Shizuo huff and grumble to himself while he picks up loads and loads of things that Izaya has never noticed before. How all these things fit exactly Izaya doesn't know, or doesn't think he wants to. Besides, in his position while watching the television in his shorts and a borrowed T-shirt, Shizuo makes an excellent source of random kisses each time he brushes by, and later bringing up freshly dried clothes and blankets, such as the one Izaya happens to be wearing.

Shizuo grumbles loudly when he stubs his toe in the doorway for the fifth time in a row, Izaya hearing the gamble when the idiot threatens his door frame with the potential of murder and just how he thinks he's going to pull it off. Izaya rolls his eyes when the blond stomps away, feeling the vibrations in his feet on the couch and all the way up. Someone seems angrier than usual, but not when Izaya has already managed two surprise kisses in the last trip with a warm load of clothes calling his name. It's not his fault at all that warm things are instantly attractive and so stealing a heavy blanket thick with warmth while he kisses Shizuo is only natural. For him, of course.

When Shizuo stomps back upstairs with one of the final loads Izaya listens for him to stub his toe, like clockwork when he hears the hiss and spit of insults for the poor door frame and the fact that Shizuo is barefoot. It's more his fault, anyway, but when Shizuo is carrying a load of laundry Izaya makes sure the beast comes by the sofa by pushing himself over the couch arm, head hanging from the ledge and an absolute method to get Shizuo to glance at him, chuckle like the condescending bastard he is, and then steal a kiss after pretending to drop the laundry basket.

While Shizuo kneels to kiss him Izaya glances at the basket, looking for anything warmer and larger than the blanket draped on his legs but seeing nothing before Shizuo pulls away, taking the basket back to his room down the hall. The informant stretches by twisting his back, glancing back at the boring program on the television he hasn't been watching at all since the first load of dry laundry came up and he stole a shirt from the said bin. If the price of a kiss from the beast is all it takes, then he won't be too stingy to deny the request.

Shizuo comes back out of his room with the empty basket, eying Izaya on the couch when he stops and Izaya lazily regards him without a care, eyes lidded and almost more seductive than coy. "You could help, you know," he says, Izaya raising an eyebrow with a scoff and the beast rolls his eyes, going back downstairs while Izaya narrowly avoids another attempt of a kiss by rolling away from Shizuo. But what the beast doesn't know is that Izaya miscalculates this time and rolls off the sofa, colliding unhappily with the floor and ending up in a tangled heap of limbs and blanket.

Brushing himself off (because that did not just happen) Izaya grabs the slowly cooling blanket and pulls it up and over his shoulders, glancing at the dark sky outside and then back to the clock, three hours from midnight and not starting to feel tired. Instead he heads to Shizuo's room for the purpose of searching for warmer blankets to grab, surprised when he pads inside and finds that the bed is missing.

Well, not missing except for the fact there are blankets strung about and propped up, an impromptu tent expanding throughout Shizuo's room with warm blankets and Izaya considers the possibilities of what the beast would attempt. Chalking it up to an amusing sense of the beast's nesting instinct (right below his need to fuck) Izaya finds the opening to the tent, intent on destroying the thing because the soft white blanket—or his favorite as Shizuo calls it which it _isn't—_is probably inside.

Crawling inside which is degrading as it sounds, Izaya finds that the inside is overwhelmingly warm, all of the sheets fresh from the dryer and perfect enough to steal them all—or just crash inside. Since it's late anyway Izaya finds the possibility of taking over this stupid tent highly considerable. Especially because the warmest one is perched on the bed, folded up and crisp white inviting enough for Izaya to claim it for himself. Shizu-chan doesn't need it anyway with the furnace body heat abilities he has, so Izaya will simply have to make use of all these blankets.

Unfolding the white blanket he wraps it around himself with the one from before, bathed in the emanating warmth while finding a pillow from one of the many strewn about and getting comfortable on the bed. Although it's not as cozy when he's by himself, Izaya isn't able to get comfortable at all when the bed is too stiff, the pillow is too lumpy...

And then he remembers, shoving another pillow over his face, that he usually sleeps on Shizuo's chest. But if he ignores it long enough he can manage to fall asleep easily, though surprisingly not as well as he used to.

With the last load of laundry clean and dry Shizuo trudges up the stairs, tired and ready to go to bed despite how early it is and the fact Izaya's not going to want to waste the night hours to sleep. Honestly, Izaya gets less sleep than he does and still functions, somewhat, (if not bitchy at the least) so long as he gets all of the blankets and rolls himself up like a burrito. Or an idiot. But sleeping without Izaya for the first several hours, Shizuo has come to realize in a stark contradiction, is much harder without the flea either on top of him or against him. There must be some reason behind it, like worrying the flea will destroy his apartment or Ikebukuro if Shizuo can't keep an eye on him.

That must be it.

Closing the front door behind him and managing not to stub his toe again, the blond glances at the couch with the intent of making the announcement for Izaya to shut up while he goes to bed. Except for the fact Izaya isn't slumped on the couch, half asleep and bored. He's nowhere to be seen, which makes Shizuo concerned for the fact that his apartment has been left unattended and Izaya is either playing a joke on him or actually gone. For his sake, he hopes it's the first of the two.

"Izaya?" Shizuo calls, scolding himself for not using the flea's nickname first and heading to his room where he constructed his strange pillow fort, only for fun while sorting out his laundry. At first the idea that the flea found it and ruined it settles as a dark thought which makes the laundry basket groan from his hands but he brushes it off, wanting to be optimistic this late at night. "Flea, you here?" If the parasite isn't then it'll be another night of sleeping by himself, something he'd rather not do even with the warmth of his freshly dried blankets.

His room is silent, save for some suspiciously placed blankets and the mess made from the mess on his floor, where the opening to the pillow fort is. Placing the basket down with the lights being turned off and out of the way Shizuo can't believe how childish this is, getting on his knees to crawl inside the fort and find out where Izaya happens to be hiding. After all, it was made to be something to confuse the flea with while luring the insect like a trap.

Except it works. On the bed, rolled up like an idiot in the missing sheets Shizuo finds Izaya, or the white cocoon of the flea tucked into Shizuo's bed like he owns it. The only giveaway is that he knows he folded the blanket earlier and that if it's moved, it's because Izaya moves it when Shizuo knows it's his favorite blanket. Deny it all he wants, the physical proof is right in front of him and just so happens to be funny.

Laughing under his breath he slowly moves over to where the fort ends and the flea is curled up on his bed, barely visible except for the slit for breathing out of and looking like an Eskimo at this point. Even the curve in his body where his knees bend makes him look like a worm, dead if he doesn't count the soft breaths coming from the pile of blankets. And Shizuo has to ask how Izaya's not burning up in the blankets, so many draped over him even though it's summertime and not that cold outside.

Shizuo moves carefully to straddle Izaya, pushing off blankets and ruining his stupid fort to let the light of the room in so Izaya can't sleep for long. But from the slow rise and fall of the mound Shizuo knows the flea is already out, but can't help from wanting to tease him about this compromising situation.

"...and the flea has become a larvae, just like the maggot he is." Shizuo leans in close and speaks louder than normal, pinning Izaya down with his body weight to let the flea know he's there. "I thought it wasn't possible, for a flea to become the parasite it holds in its stomach." Also showing off retained knowledge from high school, just to be a smartass. "But looks like you can devolve back into the parasitic piece of shit you are." He pulls at the slit where Izaya breathes from, exposing the rest of the flea's face easily enough to press his lips to Izaya's, gentle and caressing.

It's almost romantic until Shizuo pinches the flea's nose shut, forcing the idiot to realize he can't breathe while he keeps sleeping in _Shizuo's _bed with _his_ blankets and pillows, so Shizuo sees it only fair that Izaya be given the warm welcome of reality sitting on his hips and sucking out his last breaths of oxygen.

Sure enough Izaya squirms, unable to move and starting to thrash when he tries to gasp in air from his mouth and Shizuo's lips are on his, making it impossible to get enough. His eyes snap open and he struggles even more, realizing the beast on top of him is pinning him down and he can barely move or breathe.

"Awake now, asshole?" Shizuo breaks the kiss, releasing the pinch on Izaya's nose that has accidentally left marks from how hard he doesn't realize he'd been pressing. He almost feels some form of guilt, even though Izaya gives him a death glare and wriggles in his cocoon of blankets, clearly grumpy and still sleepy from the droop in his eyelids.

Izaya pants, trying and failing to regain his breath. "Fuck you, Shizu-chan. Why can't you go die for once?" Obviously he doesn't realize where he is or why Shizuo thinks it's funny that Izaya is wearing his clothes and his blankets and he still doesn't live here. Along with taking over the pillow fort, which did its job of attracting bugs well. A yawn catches Izaya in the midst of a sleepy angry glare, interrupting the whole effect and generally making him as threatening as a squirming worm.

"You're in my clothes, my blankets, my bed, my _insect trap_," Shizuo taunts, taking a kiss from Izaya because the flea still can't free his arms yet, "what else did you expect? Sucking me dry?" The sexual innuendo does not compute with Izaya, as tired as he looks and groaning in complaint. "Maybe if you sit in my blankets long enough you'll become the ugly fucking piece of shit you always have been. Or even lower than a parasite like you are." Izaya rolls his eyes, still squirming to get his hands free with no success because Shizuo's knee is keeping the blanket pinned to the bed.

"You can't even explain metamorphosis, Shizu-chan," Izaya growls, blinking tiredly and his glare focusing. "Much less use the correct terms for poorly executed insults. How riveting for you to rub your one brain cell against your skull and pretend to _think_." The snap is common for when Izaya is cranky and Shizuo grins wolfishly anyway, his point proven when he doesn't mention it aloud. He doesn't need to, not when he has the flea in his trap.

"No, don't care." Shizuo shrugs, bending back down to get another kiss while Izaya turns his head away, pouting. "Point is, you're a piece of shit and you look like a fucking idiot rolled in a blanket. Do I even wanna know?"

Izaya wriggles still, soon to give up in the hopeless attempt of avoiding Shizuo's hungry lips and attempting to portray his irritable mood. "Should I ask why you made a blanket reenactment of a nuclear bomb catastrophe or am I wasting my breath?" Shizuo kisses him hard then, in effect taking the breath Izaya complains about and his tongue darts out to find Izaya's clenched teeth and met with a growl.

"How about you shut the fuck up," Shizuo suggests, unraveling the blanket and pulling the cover of the _fortress _over the bed. Izaya manages to free his hands and it's as far as he gets to go, Shizuo quickly pinning him back down and covering them both with the white blanket. It's not surprising that there are two more still wrapped on Izaya and the flea is still wearing his clothes, even the shorts are probably his. "And go to sleep, lazy bastard." Arm coming around Izaya he doesn't leave any room to complain, turning onto his side and Izaya pulled into his chest, right where the louse is supposed to be.

"I hate you." Izaya seethes, unable to do more than let himself adjust his arms against Shizuo's chest, whether or not he likes it, and get comfortable. The stupid beast laughs at him, kissing his head and Izaya is already coming up with plans for revenge.

"Hate you more." Izaya pulls himself up, forcing a kiss and a harsh bite while Shizuo laughs at him like the beast he is.

* * *

_How adorable, I think I've lost my mind._

_Thank you for reading._


	5. Lapse in Judgment

Looking back now, some things make bad decisions when in the deal of planning. Izaya finds it so when too busy to answer Shizuo's calls, making the blond very impatient when wanting something or whatever and too stupid to realize that Izaya has important things to do. Like working, except all does not go as planned when Shizu-chan decides that he doesn't necessarily care if he shows up without invitation and doesn't leave.

Like a parasite, because even Izaya with the comparison of being a flea does not compare in any possible realm to the extent of how stupid Shizu-chan is, combined with the efforts of pretending to be nonchalant while also announcing that he's spending the night. All of this, just because Izaya has been busier than usual (okay, a week is a little long for beasts, pardon him for forgetting such _important _details) and therefore Shizuo is not his priority. In reality, he couldn't care at all whether or not the beast is frustrated for not getting some form of affection in a week. What a child.

Which leads him to staring Shizuo down, glaring at the back of his head while he munches on the disgustingly sweet smell of popcorn with added sugar and cheese, making Izaya more keen to vomit if the beast even moves in his direction.

It's all his fault for being here in the first place. Storming over, knocking down the door and demanding that he stays over while his apartment is being fumigated—complete bullshit, Izaya's looked at the records and doesn't find this convincing at _all. _So there's a bag for things Shizuo has while giving Izaya the death glare. Just because the beast fixes the door that he broke doesn't mean Izaya will come sit with him, which is what Shizuo has been insisting from the moment he makes the diabetes-inducing snack of popcorn.

"Flea, get your ass over here." Shizuo calls, flipping through channels and his voice grates against Izaya's ears, growling at this point when Izaya has been trying to be the more productive of the two. The emails filling his inbox are unimportant and Shizuo's _looks _are making him more than uncomfortable when facing the reality that Shizu-chan is a gravitating force of stupid.

And it's clearly affecting Izaya no matter how much he denies it while trying to reply to an email from some unimportant businessman that only wants what he can't afford. Or the sexual undertone in the message makes it clear he wants to pay by other means—in which if Shizu-chan sees or hears of then Izaya will know of it by the mysterious random massacre coming up in the morning news. And then the marks on his neck, bright red and bruising no matter how many times he tells the beast to knock it off, will increase sharply. The one under his jaw and his ear ache when he brushes his finger against them, fresh from Shizuo's sudden arrival and pinning him against the door without relenting or kissing him, but biting him like a monster and making sure to leave his marks.

It's not like Shizuo to not kiss him, and the worst part is that Izaya expects it and feels the fleeting burn of confusion before smothering it and getting back to his computer, demanding Shizuo to fix his door unless if he wants Izaya to call the police. A baseless threat and Shizuo knows it, frustratingly enough, and fixes the damn thing while smirking like he knows any better.

The feeling of want while trying to reply to an email makes for an interesting outcome. Izaya bites his lip, pressure buzzing in his head from a blooming headache while Shizuo keeps flipping through channels on the television, clearly expecting something that Izaya isn't keen on delivering. It's just like the beast to mess him up like this, buzzing like a television without a signal and no relief because the kisses that are supposed to mark him aren't sizzling on his lips and his skin feels itchy after Shizuo brushes, but doesn't touch.

It's not fair at all, leaving him like this. Instead it is making him angrier and more irritable than usual while he types a vaguely suggestive reply to the email, sure to laugh to himself while mocking Shizuo when suggesting that the _alternative method _to payment may be suitable, depending on what information he wants.

Shizuo, however, does not know any of this. Or the art of patience, or etiquette. "Are you going to fucking come over here, flea, or do I have to drag you from your desk? I didn't come here to watch TV," the brute growls, possessiveness in his tone making Izaya's flesh heat up while the itch only gets worse.

"Then what did you possibly come here for?" Izaya calls, teeth grinding while he attempts to massage the tension setting in his temples. "Besides breaking my apartment and using it for your own pleasure. Does Shizu-chan even have the capability of thinking of the reason why? Because breaking down my door surely convinces me that you have the capacity to understand some form of Japanese." He can't help how angry and frustrated he is because the itch in his skin only burns with the bruises that mark where Shizuo's teeth have and _haven't _been.

This stirs the beast for once, the animal standing up from the couch where he was so content to lounge with his dirty feet propped up and no consideration for anything at all. "The fuck you saying, louse? You really don't know?" He stops by the couch, shoulders squared and hands at his sides where Izaya can see the fists forming. The informant doesn't care—he just wants the itch to stop and the beast to stop doing this to him.

"I'm saying Shizu-chan should leave," Izaya snarls loudly, "_now,_ because I'm not in the mood to babysit." Computer still on and his inbox burning into his eyes from the white color and too many nights without sleep—never able to get comfortable in his own bed and most of the time too cold despite the blankets he gets—starting to pile up like a volcano ready to erupt. Fuji-san would burn with jealousy with the anger building up in Izaya.

Shizuo's eyes narrow, hot with fire blazing whenever he's angry and Izaya knows that his couch will be a victim to his wrath. Waiting for the incoming damage he sighs, turning away and glancing out the window with his head in his hand. There's no point of trying to convince the beast to not destroy his apartment.

"Fuck you too, bastard." Shizuo snaps, surprisingly quiet while his voice rumbles in Izaya's bones and his head spins. "Whatever, I'm leaving." Izaya hears the rustle of the bag Shizuo brought with him with whatever is inside, most likely clothes and a teddy bear if the beast is truly that pathetic, and he expects something to be thrown at him. The anger buzzing in the air is tangible and tastes bitter on his tongue, but not the welcome kind right before a chase.

It tastes more like ash, confirmed fully when he hears the door to his apartment slam shut.

Dusty, dirty, and empty.

Half an hour later Izaya hears the sound of the door opening, quieter and tempted to go slam it shut and use the chain when the lock is broken from a certain beast. Knives equipped in both hands he waits, turned to the windows as he has been for the last half hour and listening, breaths becoming faint while the short rush of adrenaline mixes with his blood.

The quiver of a grocery bag makes itself known as the intruder enters without a word, heavy footsteps belonging to the one and only—though Izaya still can't resist the urge to bait. "Back so soon, Shizu-chan? I thought I said to leave." Izaya sighs to himself, expecting some sort of snide comeback as stupid as the beast and his anger issues. But even then the beast can't follow simple things, not when Izaya's head is buzzing with a headache.

The bag keeps rustling as Shizuo moves, disappearing down the hallway and never making a word of greeting or any attempt of apologizing. Izaya doesn't expect it, knowing the blond brute wouldn't do anything remotely human and the bite marks already swelling to purple marks don't make an excuse. Nothing alleviates the headache swarming like buzzing bees, ringing in his ears when Shizu-chan is off playing the grumpy monster and returning like a child.

Stupid beast. As if Izaya hasn't been affected at all by a week—Shizuo is the one who does this to him, making the bite marks sting and his lips are dry and numb from pressing them tightly for so long. One _week _and Izaya gets a headache from thelack of anything between them, though Shizu-chan's tantrums are more than enough.

"Oi, fleabag," Shizuo's bare feet pad against the wooden floors like thundering in Izaya's head. "Get the fuck out of the chair before I drag you out. You're not gonna sit there while I'm here." Shizuo's feet stomp over to the chair and before Izaya can manage a word the chair spins around, coming to see something he doesn't expect.

Shizuo is dressed in something that looks vaguely reptilian with the pattern, cartoonish and a light green with the pattern representing something of a lizard with the lighter patch for the belly. There's a hood behind him and spikes coming from his sleeves, looking absolutely serious when he stares Izaya down while Izaya's brain slowly turns the cogs, trying to comprehend the scene in front of him. It's completely strange, trying to figure it out and his face contorts into something mildly confused and disinterested in the strange antics Shizu-chan has developed from not being able to get his fill of molesting Izaya.

And then Shizuo eyes him, as if daring Izaya to laugh when the red irises widen in recognition. Kasuka's newest movie came out only last week—meaning that the main theme with dragons and...

The informant's lips curve into a sneer, unable to hold in the laugh while Shizuo is not amused whatsoever, arms wrapping around his stomach while he falls forward in laughter. Shoulders shaking and silent laughs coming from Izaya, Shizuo rolls his eyes and growls something that is lost while Izaya tries to compose himself, chuckling darkly when he realizes what exactly Shizu-chan is wearing.

"Have you lost whatever was left of your brain cell?" Izaya chuckles, raising his head to glance at Shizuo in defiance when the pointed glare at him tells him to shut up already. "What were you thinking, dressing in something so stupid like that?" he can't continue, nearly wheezing when he keeps laughing at the stupidity that has zombified the beast glaring at him full force.

Shizuo raises an eyebrow, trying to get the flea to listen but to no avail until he shakes the chair, making Izaya's back collide with the back of the chair. "Shut the fuck up. At least you're laughing," he says, almost embarrassed from his tone and he continues, voice lowering which makes Izaya pay attention. "You've been stressed out, flea. Wouldn't even talk to me." Shizuo then releases the chair to force Izaya's chin up and into the brown eyes Izaya can't look away from, watching the laugh in Izaya's eyes fade away. "And since my brother's new movie came out, you're gonna support him by wearing what I bought you." Now smug he makes his point by dropping a plastic bag on Izaya's desk, over the laptop powered down and making a pointed stare. "Get dressed, flea."

The informant raises an eyebrow, Shizuo's hand withdrawing from his throbbing jaw and the blond retreating to the couch where Izaya can get the full view of orange spikes down his spine, matching the ones on his arms and shaking his head in mocking delight. Of course the brute looks like a monster now—a stupidly intimidating mess of one.

Looking in the bag Izaya finds something purple and black, pulling it out and almost surprised but half expecting the costume to be something strange or just as stupid as Shizu-chan's outfit.

But not expecting _this_, which is an entire one piece dragon suit. Complete with a black body, purple spikes, and a hood. And it's not all, because when held up Izaya knows the blond is laughing at him now, gritting his teeth when he realizes that the dragon suit is a onesie.

It's not worth it, slipping on the stupid pajama set while stripping as the television plays the theme to the opening of Kasuka's new movie and Shizuo reclines in his dragon hoodie, not nearly as embarrassing as the onesie Izaya finds to fit him almost too well and blames it on the beast's obsessive habits.

"Don't you look more like a monster." Shizuo speaks up when Izaya strides over, laughing when he catches sight of Izaya's tail bobbing behind him and arms crossing in front of his chest. The informant glares, meaning to murder the stupid blond but Shizu-chan is faster than Izaya when he goes for his switchblade, grabbing Izaya when he gets up off the couch and pushing him down to the cushions. "Much better, in my opinion. Now you look like the idiot you are." He doesn't know why Izaya's wearing the stupid thing and as Kasuka's movie starts to play he can't help but feel a little guilty, taking his attention away to plant kisses on his boyfriend's throat while the latter doesn't offer much resistance.

"I hate you and your stupid humor," Izaya snarls, just as Shizuo pulls up the dragon hood with the cartoonish eyes and laughing to himself before he dips down, Izaya meeting him this time in a needy kiss because it's been too long and the sound of Izaya laughing makes it all better.

"Did you know," Shizuo murmurs low, sucking gently on one of the marks left under Izaya's ear, "that 'rawr' means I love you?" Almost tempted to add _of course not you piece of shit_ but holding his tongue when Izaya's lips are so close and those red eyes are framed with lowered eyelashes.

Izaya scowls, readying to throw the pillow beside his head into the blond's face and squirm away.

It never happens, because Shizuo is too busy occupying Izaya's lips and the informant-turned-dragon doesn't seem to mind all that much.

* * *

_Dragons are my favorite animal ever (of course they are), and because I love to humiliate people, dragons came into the picture at one point. Bonus points to me, for making PendulumDeath laugh so hard at five in the morning. Now to keep working on my other things, so much to do, ne?_

_Thank you for reading._


	6. Cuddling Somewhere

He always has seen Izaya as a skinny little thing, easily able to slip from any trap Shizuo throws, from pinning the bastard to a wall with a vending machine to trying to grab him. Every time he slips away is another vending machine gone to waste when he can't crush the flea and keep him still for once. All the time he's wriggling away, from fighting to _trying _to be somewhat decent and hold onto the flea for the little that he's worth. No matter what Shizuo tries, the informant keeps slipping away. More or less when he's not attempting murder or taking out the trash with the flea in it.

Izaya lounges on Shizuo's bed, laptop on his stomach while he props his head up and types at an impossible speed. It's all he's been doing for the entire day, only ten in the morning and when they have days off like this Shizuo prefers to do something together. Every attempt of getting Izaya to sit with him has been a pattern of try and fail without much luck. Excuses come when Izaya glances at him, raising an eyebrow as if he can't be bothered and then moving away from Shizuo and his touch. Won't even hold his hand, the cheap bastard.

With Shizuo on the floor and bored out of his mind, already kicked off the bed more than once, he gets up without a word and more than a glance to Izaya who ignores him, reaching out a hand to brush the hair from Izaya's face—and the flea squirms away once again, not bothering to look at him. As if being here and being in a relationship with Shizuo isn't worth it and he's only here when there's nothing else to do.

It's not a fun thought while the blond treads to the kitchen, set on getting something to eat when his stomach starts to growl. While scouring through the pantry he can't help but think what's wrong—he doesn't remember doing anything wrong—and why Izaya would avoid him like this. It's common, but as their relationship has progressed, the avoidance has only gotten worse to the point where sleeping together feels strained. No touches, rarely any kisses, and none of it initiated by Izaya.

What's the big deal?

Grabbing one of his cream-filled breads, he rips the package and starts munching on it as he heads back, thinking of things to do and what he'd like to do with Izaya, if such were possible. The sweet taste of bread is comforting only momentarily, preferring the better taste of Izaya's lips and skin. Times like this are the more depressing ones when the doubting thoughts come out to test Shizuo, entering his room once again and Izaya hasn't even glanced at him once since entering the apartment. He knows Izaya has shit to do and it's already taking away his time from work just by being here.

But he could be a little more...romantic? No, even thinking of it sounds stupid and the sad thing is that Shizuo wants _something _from Izaya to prove that the flea isn't just messing with him. He shouldn't be having thoughts like this where he doubts if Izaya's in this because he actually wants it instead of playing (he can't help the bitterness that comes with each forced kiss, it's almost robotic in how cold they are) his stupid games. Sweet breakfast bread is not a suitable substitute or nor has it ever been acceptable to use and the reason that it is now is the reason why it smashes to pieces in Shizuo's hands when he hasn't felt this angry in a long time.

"Flea," Shizuo swallows another chunk, heavy and sticky artificial flavorings drying in his throat. "C'mere." He pats the bed, sliding on and sitting with his legs crossed and leans against the headboard. Not a word from Izaya, who doesn't even spare him a glance and Shizuo finds his patience dwindling to nothing. "Oi, what the hell? Get over here." Shizuo drops his bread in his lap, a reasonable loss and lunges forward just as Izaya moves away, grabbing onto the flea and dragging him back and into Shizuo's lap. The flea struggles all the while, having lost his computer in the midst of the battle and now propped up in between Shizuo's legs, arms tightening around him like a vice.

"Shizu-chan, I'm busy," Izaya rolls his eyes and squirms to get away, Shizuo's arms getting tighter around him and he winces internally, feeling like his ribs are going to snap if the idiot keeps this up. For the next few moments he can feel Shizuo's heartbeat ringing in his ears, strong and sturdy while the warmth of his arms is starting to distract him from work."You're crushing me, let go!" And just as he demands the arms around him are suddenly not there and he slips off the bed, falling ungracefully to the floor and losing focus when his head hits the carpet. Glaring back up at the beast and preparing insults, the beast doesn't look at him now. Just staring at the open laptop, demure expression marred by disappointment.

In which Izaya would like to point out that the beast is overreacting, going by the fact he asks for too much when Izaya is here by his request. "What now, beast? Need to bother someone while they're busy, or are you just too lonely being the only devolved protozoan here?" he snaps and it's as harsh, maybe harsher than he means and Shizuo won't look at him for once, but he sees the fists clenching into his palms.

"Why are you even here?" Shizuo starts, surprisingly quiet for how monstrous he is and Izaya immediately notices something off about the blond amoeba. "What's the point of being here if you won't even act like you're with me?" His voice is quiet but the impact is shaking from the frustration building up, Izaya configuring an answer when not expecting the beast to act up like this.

Izaya straightens himself, sitting on his hands and leaning back. "What does Shizu-chan care? Isn't it enough that I'm here?" he scowls, not understanding the beast and his mood swings that happen to injure him in one way or another. "I have work to do. I even told you, and you insisted that I come over. You can't expect me to drop everything and do what _you _want, do you?" Izaya tsks because he knows Shizuo will come up with some stupid self-confident answer, as if explaining his childish reasons for why he wants to keep Izaya distracted from work.

"Then leave, flea. I'm not gonna keep doing this." Shizuo tosses a hand through his hair, bread forgotten in its package slipping onto the floor. "Go do what you want. This isn't an obligation, it's a choice." Shizuo's eyes meet Izaya's and they're _angry _mixing with hurt and confusion and too many things for Izaya to process when it works too well on Izaya, processing the feeling of failure.

"Shizu-chan, what's with you now?" Izaya scoffs, meaning to climb back on the bed and give at least some sort of contact to placate the tantrum building while his thoughts are no longer on work yet scrambled. "If you want to touch me, then—"

Shizuo shakes his head, eyes fierce with the fire that refuses to ignite in them. Why is he—"Go, flea. Get out." His voice rises in volume and the realizations aren't setting in yet, still phantom lingering of the warmth and the beat of Shizuo's heart, thudding in Izaya's ears making this feel too natural and too easy to be this intimate. "Take your shit and don't bother coming back. Go finish your work."

Izaya sits up and reaches out to Shizuo, trying to attempt the same kind of touch Shizuo always gives from a simple graze of fingers on his skin that makes his light up like fire—the beast pulls away from him, getting up from his bed and dodging Izaya's stare as he walks toward the door. Izaya wants to ask the questions in his mind, holding his tongue as the wrong thing and the wrong feeling of maybe he's doing something wrong again.

"Shizu-chan, I—"

Shizuo sighs, opening the door and his eyes are too full of many things to be able to read. It's always been that way whenever he's angry and Izaya hates that he can't see past it. "Leave. I can't keep doing this anymore."

After Shizuo's footsteps disappear down the hallway to the bathroom, Izaya stares at his laptop for several moments, mind reeling at what he thinks has just happened.

His fist slams against the bed, making the same squeak the front door does when it shuts behind him.

* * *

_Uh oh, I just had to be a killjoy._

_Thank you for reading._


	7. Loving Someone

Shizuo's arms feel empty, with the cold slick feeling of sweat building when he sleeps alone for the next night. Sleeping hasn't been this hard since forgetting how to feel like he is not focusing on someone else, somewhere else in another time where this doesn't happen. Not even when he could be happy and his arms are empty filling up with expectations of what doesn't happen.

Things are quieter this way, no blanket fort made of clean laundry and caterpillar jokes while exchanging rough kisses that tone down like the night unwinding. Happy little laughs that taste like a whole different world on his tongue, coaxed when he digs his fingers into skinny ribs and mercilessly exploits all ticklish spots he can find on Izaya's body. Not like the feel will ever admit to his weaknesses and Shizuo doesn't—_didn't_—mind all that much as long as there is a weight that is comfortable and familiar sitting with him.

And it all changed, simply by closing his eyes and in a blink there is a storm and when it hits it sinks every foundation of having the little things all put together. Izaya isn't here, his bedsheets are wet and cold and the feeling of trembling goes down to the pull and realization that it's not the feel of someone breathing next to him. It's waking up in a cold sweat for the fifth time tonight and glancing at the clock isn't necessary by the time it's not even midnight.

Today is day three of coming out of the shower and his room is empty, his apartment is empty, his arms and everything from the hole in his throat is filled with silence. He'll pass by, easy enough not to think when he busies himself. It feels like it doesn't hurt in the moments of talking with Tom but each and every face that reminds him of Izaya's is a face to be beaten up and bruised black and blue.

(Only to realize he can't, something is very wrong with him and Tom notices it by telling Shizuo to take the day off.)

The funny thing is, Shizuo muses when he's dragging a heavy hand through his hair and his other hand is grappling empty sheets, Izaya is not any closer to him when he says to leave. It should be fair, not getting the amount of holding onto a lover like other couples do. Izaya squirms away every time, never initiates kisses, never sleeps next to him unless if he doesn't want to go home so late at night. Every touch was strained and absent of any meaning. Just going through the motions.

Midnight comes, the bed damp with sweat and Shizuo feels worse than the tension of getting himself to admit he has feelings for someone else.

It's not that hard until it hurts.

* * *

Clients are boring, Namie is boring, everything and everyone is boring with their listless quality of no events happening, no major pulls back to reality to keep Izaya centered on the gravity of other places besides the situation plaguing his thoughts. Constantly, haunting him past the normal hours of being awake and sleep does not show up anyway. He busies himself with more work, more jobs, nothing satisfying enough to keep him from thinking.

The strange physical symptoms come and go like rain, sudden moments of forgetting how to focus and imagining what reasons are for the specific actions taken especially—and then back to scowling, trying to forget why his brain won't shut off and leave him be in the first place. Moments like this he hates because the times are too constant to think of anything else. A wall built itself up sometime in the past several days, leaving the heavy feeling of being unable to think but hanging in his thoughts, never being able to be lifted.

Fog created in his head sounds silly. Namie angrily accuses him of having his head in the clouds or shoved so far up his—dismissed, she lets herself out anyway when he doesn't have the patience to argue with her in a composed manner and it's surprising how he doesn't taunt her on the way out. Continuity is the reason he goes back to work for the feel of a pattern in having meaning to what he does.

Trying to escape the feelings unable to be described is much harder than it sounds. Izaya ignores them for the reason that if they are as heavy and slippery to fall from his fingers and his eyes are—dry, like the breaths that crack his lips from biting them, a common habit when things aren't going his way and there is no way out besides the normality of wanting to dig a little more.

His pride wouldn't allow it. Never.

The quiet moments in between meetings and jobs in only two days bordering on three at three in the morning leave time to think and think and pull himself apart, examine all the pieces that don't fit. The explanations, the meanings behind the words that are exchanged in quick-drawing rapid gunfire in what surely is one of the more confusing changes to being in a relationship.

Which quickly circles the drain, the door shutting behind him the end of all the solutions and still his head reeling, thoughts spinning on what he's done wrong to make a beast that despondently angry. The beast growls at him, no explanation at all and no logic needed for the hot brand of stinging words and out the door goes their relationship. Whatever counts as one.

So when he feels the regret starting to kick in, there is no plausible explanation for why his chest clenches this tightly.

Izaya wants to deny any inkling of belief that it's his fault.

* * *

The invitation comes from Shizuo first, returned in exactly two days later as if there are better things to attend to than responding to a text.

_[Don't bother wasting my time, Shizu-chan.]_

Shizuo first feels the surge of anger, wanting to remind the flea that the lack of anything between them is his fault and only his—but then the reminder comes that Shizuo is the one who kicked him out so easily and doesn't explain. He expects Izaya to know better and to read him easier, so he doesn't have to. The lack of romantic things in the relationship they think they had makes him angry when Izaya constantly refuses.

Like right now, in the contents of a text message when Shizuo says _[We need to talk]_ and he's still vague, not sure how this is going to end from the sleepless nights and feeling a little emptier than usual. Vaguely related to hollowing himself out with a carving knife because he's bended and twisted to be in this relationship—he wants it, he can only assume Izaya did—and for now giving up seems much easier. Not worth it, but easier to explain than why Izaya won't admit he's the bastard who started this in the first place.

Or it can be that Izaya doesn't know. Shizuo doesn't consider this as often as he should because he writes it off as Izaya not caring. All the moments of pushing him away, no cuddling, barely allowing Shizuo to sleep with his arms around him and close enough to feel like it's not convenience they're sharing a bed for.

Whatever the reason is, Shizuo hopes—mainly for Izaya's sake, remembering the confused look twisting with the beginnings of hurt starting to seep in when he can't school the mask to be a happy fake smile—that the end doesn't start here. Wishful thinking, he knows, but he wants to say something in order to clear things up being stuck in this limbo of why they're even passively fighting in the first place and questioning if they're actually or have been a couple.

Another option is the route Shizuo takes because he can't take the feeling of ending it all in a text message wanting more than an explanation because even his own selfishness in his monstrous self-depreciating pride happens to argue that he can't keep pretending that it's fine if Izaya is throwing a tantrum. Reasons don't define him by the fact he can't keep waiting and saying that it's fine and if Izaya doesn't answer he will find an answer.

The first words, slipping out of his mouth the moment Izaya opens the apartment door because Shizuo refuses to leave one week in and they're not sorting things out, are two things for the reason why Izaya should open the door and they need to talk.

"I'm sorry."

Red eyes, dangerous and coy, widen and narrow when the smirk curls into tendrils of a frown. The apartment door closes and Izaya's footsteps are apparent of the answer.

But the door is not locked.

* * *

_Hey guess what, I really like to play around with feelings. Maybe you already knew that, maybe you haven't realized this until now. It's too late, anyway._

_Thank you for reading._


	8. We Can Stay like This

Bad days go like this.

"Are you okay, flea?" he asks because every time he has glanced at the flea there is no sign of being alive. Just sitting at his computer, a frown on his face and a hand covering the rest of his face as if not wanting Shizuo to see. In Izaya's apartment the echo of Shizuo's voice makes him realize they have been sitting in silence all day, with Shizuo in and out when it's his day off and Izaya works diligently behind a computer screen, never wanting to say anything or start a teasing conversation.

Just the taps of his keyboard. Clicking with the lightning-fast fingers of his, from alternating clicks of his mouse to more incessant typing and still ignoring Shizuo. Which the blond does not like or ignore, seeing as Izaya hasn't said a word and he always fills his apartment with the incessant chatter that comes from him and mocking anyone he possibly can, or just to piss Shizuo off. Izaya doesn't spare the time to glance at him at all and it's not making sense.

"Oi, flea," Shizuo calls again, louder when Izaya hasn't made much noise at all and the silence is starting to become deafening. "You're quiet today. What happened?" Izaya clicks on and on like this is all a joke, a strain on making the tentative that Shizuo tries to keep comfortable in the atmosphere of uneasy crumble apart like water and paper. "Or are you just playing the silent game again?"

He doesn't understand why Izaya doesn't react like he's supposed to. Frown, pull his lips back with a snarl, do anything to make Shizuo aware that he isn't fond of being insulted. Though insults are more of the flea's thing, since Shizuo prefers to stick with the truthful things he can use when things aren't going well. But for now he doesn't even blink, a hand holding his cheek and bored eyes glancing at a computer screen. For some reason the position seems to spark some note of concern in Shizuo because his boyfriend doesn't look happy or even amused at all. Not even a frown of concentrating on his work—specifically the time when Shizuo gets up and distracts him—but something in the droop of his eyes and the tightened look of his body, like curling inwards.

Something that tells Shizuo that this is very wrong and Izaya doesn't do things like ignoring him with his head in his hand and looking closer means only wanting to know more. Instead of saying Izaya's name (what's the use, at this point it's not like the flea hears him) he gets up from the couch and leaves the television on, making soft steps over the wooden floor with his socks on to Izaya's desk. Even as he walks he notices the finer details of Izaya being absorbed in another world all of his own.

"Hey," Shizuo slides up to Izaya's chair, one hand at the top and the other coming to rest on Izaya's forearm bent to hold his head. Trailing up the paler skin he cups Izaya's chin, moving his head easily so that Shizuo can brush his lips against Izaya's in a dry kiss—meaning Izaya hasn't been doing much or too absorbed in his own work. "You okay?" He doesn't go in for a second kiss, seeing the tired look on Izaya's face and maybe now is not the time. But his hand still moves to the nape of the flea's neck, massaging the muscle in touch that comes naturally with how long they've been together.

"Fine, Shizu-chan," Izaya tears his eyes away and back to the computer screen, uneventful in avoiding Shizuo's touch and the silent accusation of _no you're not _hanging between them. "I'm busy. Go play with yourself." If he doesn't even realize the innuendo purposefully or not placed in his words and balancing delicately on those pursed lips of his, then Shizuo knows it's clearly not nothing wrong.

Shizuo glances at the screen, uninterested. "Take a break then. You don't look fine to me." No insults, no complaining and little resistance when he wraps an arm around Izaya, pulling him close for a brush of lips that turns into a nuzzle and wondering how things have gotten so comfortable for both of them. "'sides, if I wanted to play with myself, you'd be watching." His lips curl in the way a bad joke makes him smile, trying to get a rise out of Izaya who still types on his computer, looking the same worse for wear as he has been. And in which Shizuo decides that whatever it is, it's more than enough to keep him from not prying. "Come on, just sit with me until you feel better."

Izaya prepares some sort of insults that string along thoughtlessly, never able to resist and knowing it's pointless to when Shizuo pulls out the chair and lifts him up, carrying him like a bride instead of a sack of potatoes. Maybe it's better this way—except being carried by Shizuo isn't usually the best option there is and any word of complaint that comes from him is promptly ignored until Izaya sees his couch and tries to struggle a little more.

"Just stay like this, flea." Shizuo says, his head resting in between Izaya's neck and collarbone. "Unless you wanna tell me what's going on." He doesn't need to say much more—he knows that Izaya isn't happy and he doesn't like it at all. Especially when the flea is quiet and solemn with the look of a wounded puppy on his face.

"It's nothing, Shizu-chan," Izaya squirms, pushing Shizuo's head away and grimacing at the kisses peppering his throat and up to his jawline, traveling to his lips in light pecks that make his head numb. "Stop pestering me, I'm busy." A broad hand travels down the knobs of his spine, coming back to his shoulders where fingers dig into knots that have settled into his muscles. It's not easy to deny how good it feels, especially when Shizuo happens to know Izaya more than he should.

"It's not 'nothing'," Shizuo grunts, kissing Izaya's ear for good measure and finally getting the flea to relax, unable to keep fighting a losing battle. "If you don't wanna talk about it, just say so. Or just sit with me." The strange kind of talk that feels better when it's not in public and he doesn't think too much about what he says, but more about the part of feeling like he has to say something when Izaya looks this pathetic.

Izaya doesn't speak while Shizuo's hands roam over him in gentle moves, not wanting to admit to anything and too much on his mind from what Shizuo can see from the dim light that comes from the blood in his eyes coloring the irises. "Bad day, huh?" After a little longer, adjusting Izaya so that the flea can lie on the couch and rest his head on the blond's shoulder and knowing that it's a bad day because Izaya doesn't complain much.

Silence is easier, Shizuo finds, when he can hold Izaya like this.

* * *

_Thank you for reading._


	9. Origami

Shizuo watches as Izaya's fingers move when there isn't much to do. In the graceful fast movements of the quiet shush of paper folding and his fingers pushing and pulling to create, Shizuo realizes that he's never seen Izaya's steady fingers in their elegant folding and pinching for colored pieces of paper. He's never seen them closer than on a knife and or wrapped up in his hands, much smaller than the thick lengths of his own.

While Izaya folds his newest creating and creases the paper, Shizuo counts the times he's seen Izaya at work, concentrating on something so mindless the thought is incredible new to him—most, if not all of the time, Izaya is either working or running away from him. Things for relationships that couples do usually don't involve them in busy lives and there isn't much time anyway to appreciate the details.

Izaya has never cared much for details, Shizuo recalls as Izaya folds this one, the form starting to rise up from the green paper and what looks to be another folded paper crane. The hobby of origami is unheard of for Izaya to use when Shizuo tries to remember where Izaya learned the skill but draws blanks. Quiet moments are generally reserved for activities they can do together with something different for both.

Which is why this is so unusual. Shizuo dressed in plain clothes, no work today and Izaya taking a break from a week of stress piling up. The dark bags under his eyes feel tangible with the heavy sourness that comes with the lack of sleep, bitter on the back of his tongue in guaranteed morning kisses because waking up together is something sort of new.

Izaya finishes the last of the wings, pulling the neck and head into shape while Shizuo finds himself remembering what he's doing and scowls, mainly to himself and not realizing that Izaya can always see what Shizuo shows vividly. The flex and coil of Izaya's fingers is addictive, he thinks without words and it's only early in the morning with just spending their time together. Izaya has been going on and on about many different topics, never able to settle on one for long and Shizuo stopped listening an hour ago.

Not that he should probably mention that.

"Shizu-chan?" Izaya's voice takes a different tone rather than the drone of lecturing with the twinges of excitement while stumbling onto a topic he enjoys, now a quieter acknowledgment that Shizuo has been scowling at him for the past minute.

The blond shakes his head, blinking and watches as Izaya finishes the crane as another flawless piece of work and still confused as to how the informant can make such beautiful things if all he does is destroy them. There are some things about himself he does not want to admit either. "Nothing, just," Shizuo swallows and there's a dry patch on his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth the same way his eyes stick to Izaya's dried lips and thinks saliva could help for temporary solutions. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

Izaya pushes away the green crane, getting another sheet of paper with a dark, violet hue mixing in with the dark blue. His tongue comes between his pursed lips in a habit Shizuo recognizes of thinking about his next piece, the slowly growing pile of origami art starting to inhabit the table while he hasn't touched his coffee mug at all. "Everyone knows how to make the simplest of shapes, Shizu-chan. Didn't you learn that, or are you too much of a monster to understand basic Japanese?" The snicker is in there somewhere, not laced in between Izaya's fingers when he starts folding the shush and whisper of paper to be made into another piece of art.

"Don't be stupid. I didn't learn that as a kid, y'know, had more important stuff to do other than folding paper." Shizuo jabs back and Izaya's lips curve into a half-smile, fingers never faltering in their folding while Shizuo contemplates how Izaya has maintained such skill over the years and why he hasn't ever noticed.

There isn't a single paper cut on Izaya's fingers, Shizuo notices after careful observation attempting to look nonchalant. Izaya speaks with a hum in the toned down version of his voice, no longer making lectures of boundless topics Shizuo isn't interested in. "Ah, but it's better than tearing up the entire city."

"Tch." Shizuo rests his head in one hand, glancing back at Izaya's face that is clear of any sort of stress, remembering last week and the drooping of stress lines carved into the smooth face of Izaya's. This week looks like healing and taking it easy. So be it, without a reason for why Shizuo wants to move his fingers into Izaya's but doesn't want to disturb the process.

His fingers drum on the table, Izaya making something complex out of the dark blue paper by the tiny folds he makes and the resistance of paper being the loudest noise between them when Izaya's voice no longer fills the room. Quieter mornings are just fine, if not rarer than most.

"Why are you making those?" Shizuo finally decides to ask, hand feeling empty and a craving for nicotine or _something _in his mouth starts to kick its feet and whine. He contemplates getting up and grabbing a smoke but since this is Izaya's apartment he can't smoke inside. And Izaya would be a better alternative, perhaps. "Didn't take you for the type to get all sentimental and shit over paper."

"Ah." Izaya hums, finishing particularly difficult creases and tears he monitors with his slender fingers, pressing and pulling before bending and folding. The blue paper gives easily to his fingers, rusty with his skill but more than capable of pulling off shapes. When glancing at the collection of birds, stars, cats, and fish, Izaya finds that there isn't so much of an answer as Shizuo is looking for. "Do I need to explain myself when I do something Shizu-chan doesn't like? That's not polite to ask in my home, ne."

Shizuo grumbles a sigh, watching the process of the object becoming somewhat of a resemblance and his eyes are drifting away, bored with the quiet morning and blood starting to come to life. His mouth twitches and his lips shift and press together when he thinks of getting that cigarette. Something to occupy him while Izaya does these simple things and they aren't doing much at all.

It's hard to get used to when he doesn't expect it. Neither does Izaya but like this relationship things happen and when they do there isn't much else they can do. "You don't even care, flea. Dunno why you think folding shit is fun."

Izaya stops, hands reaching out to Shizuo's wrists and encircling them with colder fingers before grabbing the blond's attention as he pulls them over to the nearly finished product, positioning his hands over Shizuo's. "You have to make it first, Shizu-chan. With your monstrous strength, it's impossible for you to make anything." The words don't sting. They don't because Shizuo is too busy getting angry over Izaya's remarks, barely paying attention to the fact that he has been folding just like Izaya has been.

The same process comes from Shizuo's fingers. Entirely capable of smashing buildings and reducing anything to rubbish, sitting in Izaya's apartment creating something so meaningless that it won't mean anything at all. But Izaya doesn't let go of his hands and that odd little half-smile is there, Shizuo gruffly responding to what Izaya does with his hands and finding that watching the process is unreal.

It takes a couple more folds, Izaya licking one of Shizuo's fingers suddenly and then creasing it, folding and tearing and making a process of something foreign to Shizuo. It's reminiscent of Kasuka and his talent for arts in school where he would show Shizuo his projects. Always amazing, always perfect, just like his brother is.

"There," Izaya says, dragging Shizuo back to reality and one hand slips away to grab his coffee mug, taking a long swallow of black bitterness and sighing to himself. Underneath Shizuo's hands is a blue fish, but not any fish because of the amount of detail spent with creating it.

It's unreal. A koi fish, folded with just one piece of paper and everything down to the eyes is so perfect that Shizuo doesn't know how to insult this now. Or because he made it with Izaya's help and so that doesn't count, right?

"Don't get so hung up over a fish, Shizu-chan." Izaya's tiny fingers curl in his, stroking over his thumb and forefinger. He moves from his chair and takes Shizuo not completely by surprise, still managing the element of Shizuo not expecting Izaya to turn his head and press a chaste kiss to his lips with paper-thin expectation for more. Sweet and long-lasting, just how kisses can be when it's not important to care.

Izaya tastes like burned coffee, paper, and Izaya. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever, flea." Kisses that grow longer and Izaya migrates to Shizuo's lap. The koi on the table made of blue paper can stay in Shizuo's pocket, when he finds normal clothes to wear and bring it home in without the odd look of dark amusement from Izaya.

Maybe learning origami wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

_Thank you for reading._


	10. Silent Night

Frustrated angry lonely—so angry, so much building up ready to collapse moving in bursts of explosions and anger bursting from the seams Izaya can't take it just by clenching his fingers skin-tight white and digging into his palms searching for blood. He finds what he's looking for but it doesn't alleviate any feeling of wanting to _scream _until his lungs burst and then beg for mercy to take one final breath in the wrong direction and hold his hands over his mouth so no sound comes out. If it does that means he loses the game of playing himself for keeps and holding himself dangling until he chokes out every last bit of life and smiles with the grim certainty only numbness can bring.

Izaya feels the numbness. Sometimes, fleeting in his grasp thinking he can grab it if he stays in bed one day on a day off meant to be doing something but he can't remember so he doesn't. It's better to keep an arm's length at the end of a sharpened blade stuck in his wall (when does he pick up these bad habits?) and staring at the ceiling.

There's nothing wrong. Nothing at all besides the usual screaming frustration that comes with not breathing correctly or when his eyes narrow and pain is all he sees and feels that his boyfriend, Shizu-chan the _monster—_he's the monster, he's a bigger liar and a fake much more than—can't be around him for much longer than a passing glance and no more kisses. Kisses are painful and burn around the rims of his eyes.

And maybe it's been more than a few days. No contact, shutting off working by email and the phone—Shiki-san says he's sounding strange. Izaya hasn't felt better when being this isolated that he can think to himself without interruption. Nothing is wrong.

His phone is in his hands, late at night so late it's morning. Sheets tangled in between skinnier legs that have seen better days and there are fresh cuts despite not seeing Shizu-chan and light poles for weeks now. There's a button to press—to call, to say _something _that feels better than—but the problem is that his needy attitudes are not something to be proud of.

Izaya can't sleep. Again, the pillow is too lumpy and one after another turns from warm to cool and squishy to stiff and uncomfortable in all ways. Too hot in his sheets too cold without arms and slivers of some cold sweat of regret. Wearing hearts and emotions sound so silly at two in the morning.

Everything feels foreign down to remembering how many times he's been in this situation. Waiting, waiting on something to push the call button in green or the red one, always the red one. Sometimes he wants to slam his phone against the wall but he knows what happens if he does. He'd rather not replace another one.

Wanting Shizu-chan is just silly. What for? Why bother? He _is _Izaya Orihara, master of controlling himself and others (besides certain stupid monsters) and working on his only weakness—being that one is not enough to—after all, being twenty-one forever means more time to improve.

It's dark. It's cold, it's hot, it's splitting and his eyes will burn like the color they are. His fists curl and he thinks of screaming, knowing the hoarse sound to be something to pierce his ears and ring in his head. As much as it sounds tempting Izaya knows exactly the consequences and the risks of pretending to care that his palms are covered in fingernail marks and he's told Shizu-chan that he doesn't want to be lovers anymore.

Okay, maybe. Some things just spill out and Izaya doesn't necessarily remember and he won't confess how wrong it is to not know.

Angry, wet puffs of breath and his throat is unsteady. He feels empty and dripped dry. His fingers slip just like his phone does and in one foul breath he can be soaring low and listening to a dial tone. Heartbeats are the better alternatives to listening to a call connecting and too late to press the off button—not really—and more so wanting to know what happens.

One, two, three, he counts in soft hums in his head because he doesn't trust speaking. Not if he has to bite on his palms leaving bloody teeth marks of his mistakes for all to see. There is a reason why he does business at home some days.

Four rings in, just giving up the ghost and going to press the off button, feeling numb and sour because there is no reason to call—the phone picks up. Shizu-chan.

"_What the fuck do you want at...two in the morning? Have you lost your goddamn mind!?" _Same old Shizu-chan, same old release of baited breaths and feeling something warble in his chest. Get himself together, Izaya knows how to school himself. He knows better.

So the funny thing is, nothing comes out of Izaya's mouth when he opens it. His teeth click shut and he bites his lower lip accidentally on purpose.

"_Let me guess," _Shizuo sighs, shifting sheets in the static background thinking Izaya must be up to no good—he always is. _"You just want to rub it in that you can survive without anyone. Congratulations. It must be so lonely for you." _Sarcasm appreciated, because the burn is like a little sensation of fingers in his hair and rushing down the back of his throat to pull his organs out one by one. Inappropriate, but so is waking up sticking to his keyboard. Typed messages on his face he doesn't have to explain.

More seconds tick by, it's getting later and Izaya doesn't think sleep is an option. _"So what do you want now? You're happy that you're on your own, good for you. Now don't fucking call me at two in the fucking morning."_

Bitter laughter makes Izaya realize it's the first thing he's made a sound in days. It tastes raw and dry on his throat. "Never mind, Shizu-chan."

"_You can get mad at me, accuse me of whatever you want for no reason at all,"_ Shizu-chan says, more rustling in the background until Izaya realizes it's the frantic pinch and roll of his fingernails trying to rip his sheets apart. _"But I can't help you. At all. You chose to be alone, and that's fucking fine with me when you just say shit without a damn warning. Proud, aren't you, flea?"_

_Yes, _he wants to say but he doesn't because silence is an overwhelming answer. Izaya thinks he's perfectly fine when he can keep his thoughts ordered because not thinking means making mistakes and thinking too much means—never mind.

He sounds as confident as the breaths coming through the phone. Oh, Shizu-chan must be upset by now.

It doesn't compare. _"This is the first time you've called me. Make it the last. I'm done dealing with you and your tantrums. If you want to play the silent game, then that's fine with me. Go bother someone else." _

It never mattered, anyway.

"Never mind, Shizu-chan," Izaya says, dreamily as he finds himself unaware of saying that he's in so much angry frustration licking up his chest and pouring molten lead into every orifice just trying to behave himself and be okay for one moment. No breaking down, no nothing. "It was an accident."

Shizu-chan snorts, catching onto the bullshit just as badly as it stinks when the stench hangs in the air. _"Liar. You don't make 'mistakes' on accident."_

Lips take like sticky warm honey and good feelings. They taste dry and sweet and burning with the taste of knowing better than to fantasize. "Maybe I should have, Shizu-chan."

Shizu-chan starts saying something before Izaya can't tolerate the phone and the vulnerability that is a responsibility he doesn't pay for and he forgets his own game shortly before he can gather wits to hang up. Even without dry kisses and heavy arms and trying new things Izaya can still remember them like sticky fragments of bad webs and bad decisions that come with consequences and biting his arm until it bleeds to stop the pinching in his throat.

What hurts less is the option and the easier way out of playing around with confusion and overdue time limits marking the start of nothing new and lonely aftertaste. Numbing, cold, and with the sticky feel of saliva and cooled sweat. Empty fingers curling into the scabs littering his palms.

It's better this way.

...Even if it hurts.

* * *

_Thank you for reading._


	11. Pink Tuna Tango

Waiting for Izaya has never been this difficult. Usually it's not at Izaya's apartment he's at and just because he has a key to the place doesn't mean he's not going to crush the front door to get in. But just because it's Izaya and because of what they are, he patiently unlocks the door an hour before Izaya gets back from a trip to another city.

Which means having more time to prepare, Izaya only having been gone for the past week on the shady-ass "business" he has in what Shizuo decides to name as fuck-if-he-cares where. The past week has been slow with the same jackasses making him angry and no one to go visit when he's tired and just wants to hold onto the skinny body that is Izaya. And he totally knows that Izaya likes it too, so he better not hear any complaining.

It's not really breaking into the flea's fancy apartment if it's for this reason. Some supplies with him in a bag slung over one shoulder, going to the newest installment without even a word but a smirk and extra kisses from Izaya mentioning something about a mini bar and Shizuo proving himself useful—bastard. Expensive, high-class snot-nosed bastard who installed a fucking mini bar in his apartment, even though Shizuo knows his favorite drink is red Pinot Noir.

And no, that's not awkward at all to know Izaya's favorite alcoholic drink because they've been together long enough that there isn't anything to be awkward about. He's still a bastard, Shizuo is still putting up with his shit, and even coming all the way here after work and setting up in the same stupid mini bar because...just because, that's all, damn it.

Fuck, this is annoying 'cause it's embarrassing. Setting up his drink mixes, the cups, everything needed from his old bartending days and he knows everything there is to know and because Izaya will be here soon.

Two cups set out, plain-colored and just sighing to himself because he's still dressed in his bartender's outfit and it reminds him of much more like the days before being with Izaya. They can fool the city but sometimes even remembering the bad times makes him irritable, 'cause the flea is an annoying little fuck and that hasn't changed.

But his kisses are _almost _worth it, if given more frequently.

Thirty minutes left while he looks for ice, knowing Izaya should be here soon and so he's got plenty of time to think about what he's doing. A drink to serve for the both of them—not too sweet, not too bitter and alcoholic but something to mean things because Shizuo happens to be more detail-oriented while Izaya couldn't care more. Give him a reason to care.

Shizuo scrubs his hand through his hair, unpacked and lying on his bent arm, thinking of what the hell he thinks he's doing. Which is trying to prepare for Izaya coming back and spending the night over, having his sleeping clothes and possibly not needing them at all.

And then he hesitates, scowling to himself when he feels like an idiot if Izaya doesn't care. There's no reason to doubt but he does, even though he knows his own abilities and he shouldn't—_goddamnit—_!

Mixing up the drinks is easy enough, waiting for the ice to shop because the thick cubes in Izaya's freezer are too big to make this work. As he mixes and concentrates the right amounts he doesn't notice that even with ten minutes left on the clock the front door clicks open, after a key digging around and finding that the door is unlocked.

"My, my, Shizu-chan," Izaya slips in after pocketing his key, making Shizuo's fingers clench as he shakes the mixer and growls to himself, watching the look in Izaya's eyes when he meets them. Obviously the flea is more than tired, going by the bags under his eyes and the luggage he has nonchalantly dumped at the door, shutting it behind him. "I didn't expect a gift when I came back, besides a vending machine in my bedroom."

Okay, so it was that one time when they were fighting.

And still hilarious as fuck, because of how angry Izaya was and how much better the sex can be when he's angry and can be teased mercilessly.

Izaya stalks over to him, jumping up with those lean legs of his and sitting on the counter, sliding so his knees part over Shizuo's hips and he looks down with lidded eyes, exhaustion starting to show even with the tempting look. And not much longer to wait for when he pulls Shizuo into a kiss, licking his lips and easing the rough friction that comes with being away for too long.

Those lithe hands of his wind into Shizuo's hair, making him forget what he's doing and that there's a plastic bag that hits the stool as soon as it drops from Izaya's fingers. Pulling away is like pulling off a tick, with Izaya wanting more (little greedy shit) and Shizuo giving him one last slow one, coupled with a bite to keep him away for now.

"Aren't you early?" Shizuo shakes the container until satisfied, grabbing one of the glasses and seeing the pinkish flush on Izaya's cheeks, making his own start to burn in some horrifyingly unfair punishment.

"Ne, does Shizu-chan not want me home?" Izaya leans in for another kiss, rejected by the push of Shizuo's hand and the little fucker takes his hand instead, kissing each finger and lacing them with his own. "Yet I thought by that kiss you were more than happy to have me back, guess I was mistaken." Izaya makes a move to scoot closer because he is an annoying little shit and Shizuo growls, pushing him away and taking the glass out of his hands.

"Nothing wrong with it. Now get your bony ass off my counter." Shizuo snaps, popping the metal lid and pouring a pinkish orange liquid into both glasses, Izaya's eyes burning through him as the lust starts to pile up and remembering just how long it's been since the last time.

Izaya scoffs, laughing in that little haughty chuckle of his. "_Your _counter? What were you doing while I was gone, Shizu-chan? And what is _this?_" Taking one of the glasses, right before Shizuo decides revenge would be better in the form of a pink umbrella, decorating the glass as Izaya lifts it up and then sliding one into his own drink.

"It's called shut the fuck up and drink it, shitty louse." Shizuo swallows from his, enjoying the pleasant burn of not too much alcohol and the bitterness at first makes his tongue curl, just before the sweetness kicks in. By the look on Izaya's face, he knows he's gotten it right. "What's in the bag?"

"Sushi. Simon decided to give me a warm welcome with some half-off sushi, and I got Shizu-chan some extra tuna in case if you ever decide to develop a sense of taste." His pink tongue darts out to lick his lips, catching any spilled liquid and plucking the pink umbrella. "Aren't you childish, Shizu-chan," he purrs, twirling the silly thing and scooting closer to Shizuo.

"Sounds like you've had nothing better to do than to not appreciate anything," Shizuo growls, taking more swallows of the drink and then Izaya makes a noise that sounds like a hiss, right before his glass nearly slams onto the counter top and his lips are on Shizuo's, keeping him in place while they caress and coax Shizuo into opening his mouth. Hands travel into his hair, something scratchy hitting the side of his head before Izaya pulls away and laughs, his pink umbrella missing and Shizuo has the urge to shove the tuna up the flea's ass.

"Miss me yet?" Izaya asks, legs wrapping around Shizuo's waist before the blond can pull him off the counter, resting his head on top of the bleached hair and hearing the vibrations of the beast growling at him once again.

"You wish," Shizuo says, but he catches Izaya anyway with his mouth, and there isn't much to say with as eager as Izaya kisses him. Maybe in the past week it's been a little strange without someone there to hold onto and kiss all he wants—or attempts to.

And now to make the bastard stay.

* * *

_Now to cheer up after that last one, dear me. This came from asking Mama Shizuwan for three words off the top of her head, which were pink, tuna, and tango. Silly Mama._

_Thank you for reading._


	12. Nightmares

An earlier morning than usual, Izaya comes to groggily notice when stretching in his bed and finding where he reaches to be surprisingly empty—and colder than usual. Which is odd, considering right across from him on the right side of the bed is always Shizu-chan, the enormous furnace free of costs besides the occasional food raiding in his pantry.

Odd, being that Shizuo always sleeps in later than he does and there is never a day that Shizuo wakes up earlier than Izaya does, who sleeps in to the latest time of seven in the morning. But having it still dark outside rules out that option, empty sheets and a lack of a heat source meaning to wake up now, which is a terrible waste of sleep time.

Sitting up in bed, reclining on his elbows and barely enough time to adjust to the darkness before a sudden light from the bathroom door opens, filtering in light. A hiss stumbles over his lips, squeezing his eyes shut from the shock burning his eyes and not noticing Shizuo walking out in heavy steps, tired.

"You awake, flea?" Shizuo's voice comes in a quiet intone, akin to a small child but with the deeper baritone of a matured voice, practically the only thing mature he has besides _other _areas.

"I am now, Shizu-chan," he yawns, squinting in the light that disappears moments after burning into his corneas and then the room is engulfed in shadows once again. "Why are you awake, Shizu-chan? Besides trying to blind me, which you failed at." It's never too early for sarcasm and he hears Shizuo scowl, saying it's not funny but in theory, it always is.

Usually Shizuo plays along with his games. This time, for some reason, he stays quiet. "Don't worry about it. Go back to sleep, Izaya."

Though Izaya can see the outline of him it doesn't make this any better, watching as Shizuo's fidgeting starts to barely become noticeable. His fingers clenching and unclenching, stance moving his weight to either foot and generally too quiet to just be sleepy. "If it's 'nothing', then why aren't you back in bed?" Izaya tries to make it sound like Shizuo should be in bed because he's too tired to come up with any more sarcastic insults but sleep is calling but it's not loud enough over observing the shadow of Shizuo across from him.

No answer. Izaya tries again, blinking slow and feeling the drag of sleep at his eyelids. "Something happen, Shizu-chan? Or did you scare yourself in your sleep again?" This earns a faint growl and he doesn't have the energy to give a lousy knowing smile, already knowing how easy it is to rile Shizuo up. The air between them, however, doesn't feel quite the same as it always does.

"...Something like that, go ahead with whatever you wanna call it." Shizuo makes a move with his head turning back to the door, weight shifting off one heel to another and his body language makes it clear something isn't right after all. "Go back to bed, flea."

Izaya props himself up higher, leaning against the headboard and knees drawing up to bend sideways on the bed. "Ne, is it so bad that you can't tell me, or do you think I can't tell?" He makes a more firm point with this and it's a little harsh to hear early in the morning, though there's no point in trying to go about this with a different approach. "Shizu-chan, what happened?"

Shizuo glances back at the door, down to his feet, and then his hands tug on something and Izaya starts to notice the familiar shape of something that Shizuo is wearing, not able to identify it just yet because of the slow thought processes in his brain. It looks like Shizuo opens his mouth to say something but then closes it, glancing back at Izaya and barely able to be seen before he turns his head back to the bathroom.

"...I thought I hurt you." His voice is quieter now, dropping low to almost a whisper.

Izaya considers this, not believing what he's hearing just now and still trying to shake off the excess drowsiness causing his thoughts to relapse into nonsensical things. "What do you mean, hurt me? You throw public property at me all the time and I'm still alive."

That's not enough for Shizuo, not enough to convey the meaning when he still won't look back at Izaya. "Not that," he sounds like he wants to say more but then his breath catches and he pauses, silent for moments that feel like he's picking his next words. "Never mind."

Izaya holds a hiss of breath, rubbing at his eyes and trying to focus on what Shizuo is holding in between his fingers and fiddling with while he avoids any sort of contact. "Shizu-chan, am I so untrustworthy you can't tell me anything? Get in bed and tell me." Izaya makes it so that it's not a request, but a command and while he hears the low rumble of complaint, he sees Shizuo steadily approaching the bed again, lighting up when he comes closer.

A hand reaches toward him like a lifeline, some sort of reassurance that means he can trust and Izaya finds the intricate parts of knowing Shizuo as something he doesn't know what to name. And he takes the hand toward him, curling his fingers into the warmer skin and a hint of fur on a sleeve in what is a surprise recognition and waiting as Shizuo hesitates, not normally like himself, and then climbs back into bed.

His fingers in Izaya's lead him to move over to Izaya, slipping under sheets and then legs tangling, making himself comfortable with sitting on Izaya and supporting his weight on Izaya who already sits low with only his head resting on the headboard. Sliding together like this makes Shizuo's head fall onto his shoulder and rest in the grooves of collarbone, soft breaths drifting across bare skin before either of them speak.

"I heard you, something like that, and you were in pain." Shizuo swallows over himself and their fingers are still intertwined, his longer ones tightening with Izaya's and receiving the same motion to know that Izaya is listening. "And I thought that I hurt you. Somehow, in my sleep or something and I was afraid I'd hurt you—" he cuts himself off, playing with the fur of Izaya's jacket that fits him well, providing warmth for the both of them.

"That's stupid," Izaya says, feeling the sturdier heartbeat of the two at a higher rate than his own and feeling the burn of Shizuo's glare. "Not only are you wearing my jacket, but you know that you can't hurt me, Shizu-chan. Don't be an idiot." And it's true, because Izaya has always been untouchable.

Shizuo hums a sigh, breaths starting to even out and they stay like this for a little longer, Izaya's other hand moving through blond strands down knobs of Shizuo's spine, barricaded by thick muscles on either side and then resting in the dip of his back. "Should've known, bastard." Shizuo looks up at him, dark eyes dulled with sleep but starting to look better than any sort of hesitancy, just before Izaya leans down and kisses him easily.

Shizuo tastes wet and cooler than normal, soon drying on Izaya's lips and dry with the repeated worried marks of teeth on his lip, the kiss is slow and pointless besides comfort.

Izaya slides lower so he can lie on the bed, Shizuo's weight keeping him down and warming him up even with his jacket as the blond head rests on his chest. After the silly talk at an early hour in the morning, he doesn't know how to describe the feeling that starts to become flighty in his chest.

Instead, he feels fingers squeeze in his and reciprocates.

* * *

_I find it interesting that a lot of people in this fandom don't like Izuo-which is what this and the last chapter are. Now I can completely understand this because a lot of Izuo is rape or mocking Shizuo, making him seem weak and dare I say "girly". But there are still people who can write Izuo, and even I hope to be one of those people with practicing. Izuo sounds a little weird to me because it's mainly Shizaya in this fandom, but some Izuo tossed in the mix that isn't necessarily rape or negative elements isn't all that bad, ne?_

_Thank you for reading._


	13. Shizuo Rabu!

"Shizu-chan," Izaya whines and squirms once again within the confines of Shizuo's grasp, unhappily perched in his lap and bound with arms wrapping around him. "Let go of me, ne? I have work to do." Which isn't funny at all, even if the idiot thinks so and Shizuo likes to argue quite loudly with his protozoan logic that he is _not _an idiot.

The low grumble doesn't affect Izaya like he knows it's supposed to. Instead, it's only worse—Shizuo knows what he can do, teeth scoring the shell of Izaya's ear while he keeps the smaller body pressed to his, if only for a little longer. Sitting on Shizuo's couch, the old dumpy thing that's far too uncomfortable to even work on and then Shizuo has a penchant for making himself insufferable. And it wouldn't be so bad if Izaya would stop complaining about how much his ass hurt from sitting on it. Not really his fault, seeing as Izaya does have a bony bottom that Shizuo gropes, only making sure.

"Thought you knew better than that," Shizuo murmurs into his ear, feeling the tighten of muscles down Izaya's back and the hitch of breath, pretending all he wants that it didn't happen but it most certainly did, repeating one more time when Shizuo kisses Izaya's ear, then behind it, and nuzzles the nape of Izaya's neck. "Than to come here when you got 'work' to do. Figures, 'cause you are a lazy bastard."

Izaya hisses, struggling once again even though they both know it's pointless. "That's because you won't let go of me! I came here because you were going to drag me here anyway, you barbaric monster!" It's funny how Izaya lies when he's embarrassed. "Now get off of me, you stupid protozoan. Possessiveness is a turn off." Pouting, with his bottom lip sticking out like a sore, kissable thumb that Shizuo can't manage to reach from here.

Instead, Shizuo lines kisses down Izaya's spine, each and every knob kissed until he reaches the collar of Izaya's shirt and licks a line back up, making him shiver in what Izaya will argue as disgust. "Bullshit. You get turned on whenever I hit you." Which is very much true, leaving no room except for Izaya to stiffen when his hands start to roam down the flea's thighs, making him shift uneasily.

"There's ah—a difference between trying to kill me and trying to get me off." Izaya bites his lip with a moan, fingers massaging the flesh of his thighs and digging in deep while cool air blows on the wet stripe on his neck. "You, however, are incapable of both. I'm surprised you haven't broken me yet from your sheer stupidity."

Shizuo growls, nipping Izaya's pale skin once again and then licking it, lips moving back up to his ear. "That's not what I hear. Probably because you're too busy moaning my name like the slut you are, thrusting back on me."

Izaya rolls his eyes out of Shizuo's sight, feeling the coil of heat starting to tighten in his stomach when those daring fingers inch closer to the line of where his shorts end. His own hands are busy trying to push Shizuo's arms off of him, frustrated with his lack of progress. A snarl comes to his lip, creasing like the disgust in his voice. "You can't even get me hard with your ideal of dirty talk, don't flatter yourself or you'll overexert your protozoic brain cell."

"Jealous?" Finger skim under Izaya's shorts and seek the warmth in them, slapped away by Izaya's impatience.

"Of what? Your stupidity? Or your lack of skill in pleasing anyone besides Shizu-chan?"

Teeth bite him hard, just at his hairline and Izaya gasps audibly, wincing with the sting and Shizuo's teeth breaking skin. His hands shoot up and go to his throat: one on Shizuo's jugular digging in with blunt fingernails and the other squeezing the strong jaw tightly. He pants, softly while Shizuo removes his teeth and then sets to licking at the blood drawn, making Izaya's breathing even more uneven with every gentle lick.

"Don't need to please anyone, much less you." Shizuo smirks against Izaya's skin, pausing from licking to blow over it and feel the rise of gooseflesh on Izaya's bare skin, all the way down to his thighs. "But I do, because I'm the only one who can give you what you want." Cocky, just like how easily his words shoot straight to Izaya's rebellious groin with a hard pulse of blood.

Izaya knows how easily he can find someone for a good lay, only a couple of words. The beast is nothing special in bed, not when he can find himself a man or woman for his needs. But they are his humans, and none of them are as wild and dangerous as a monster can be, which provides the thrill and gives him a reason to stay.

Or so he likes to think. "You can't even do that. Did you honestly think thrusting inside of me would be enough to satisfy?" Shizuo's lips ghost over the bite on his neck and he knows Shizuo put it there on purpose, just to mess with him using his stupid logic. "Shizu-chan has no technique. It's all messy and rough thrusting. How am I supposed to be impressed? Perhaps I should go find someone else, maybe even Shinra would care to give a demonstration—mmph!"

And with that, Shizuo decides he's heard more than enough to last for the rest of this lifetime. One hand comes from Izaya's thigh and wrenches Izaya's head to the side, giving him the chance to steal a bruising kiss that starts roughly and then progresses into softer strokes of lips and the tip of his tongue, making Izaya regret ever mentioning cheating—let alone with _Shinra _of all people.

He's not about to let his reputation be tarnished by some shit talk. "Think you're real cute, don't ya?" Shizuo bites down, _hard _on that plump bottom lip and feels the blood soak onto his tongue, lapping it away just as Izaya starts to run out of breath. "You think some idiot would ever want to sleep with you? Knowing the bastard you are, you'd fuck with their heads," he continues, forcing another heavy kiss before Izaya can get the chance to breathe. "But that crazy nutjob, of all people, fucking _you?_"

Hearing Izaya's whine and feeling the struggling hands start to turn frantic, Shizuo parts from him, knocking their heads together and curling his arm around Izaya possessively. "Face it, not even he would lay a hand on your ass. You got lucky, because it's _mine._" Another kiss, soft this time and his tongue flicks out, tracing the seam of Izaya's pressed lips and massaging a thigh once again, his other hand traveling to an ear and rubbing the skin beneath it.

Despite how much he wants to avoid it, Izaya moans when Shizuo's fingers dig in and he slips his tongue in, tasting more blood from the bite on Izaya's lip when it splits and he feels those sharp teeth Izaya has sinking into his own lip, causing a knee-jerk reaction of Shizuo's fingers digging into Izaya's thigh and throat, making him whine with a sharp inhale.

"Shizu-chan is an idiot." Izaya growls, low and vibrating straight onto Shizuo's tongue as he tries to talk over the blond, pushing him away. The kiss ends with one last lick across teeth and Shizuo pulls back, only to tighten his arms around his unwilling victim once more. "All you use is brute strength to get what you want, ne? Now that's hardly a fair fight."

Shizuo scoffs, "Since when did _you _care about fairness? I got what I fought for, so shut the fuck up and quit bitching." Then an idea comes to mind, gleaming like the smirk in his eyes Izaya doesn't want to see, already pouting just for the point of getting attention. "And I'm not the one keeping you here. You keep coming back, bastard flea."

Izaya laughs, a mix of cold-blooded and amused. "I've got to get my money's worth, ne? If I cared about you at all, I'd have put you down like the mutt you are to end your misery."

"And I'll squash you like a bug. Don't forget who you're fucking talking to." Shizuo growls back, Izaya pretending to size up his competition but it's clear to Shizuo who wins.

Lips attach back on Izaya's throat, sucking hard and biting just to make the flea squirm with a "Shizu-_chan_!" when he can't catch his breath, trying hard not to let Shizuo's wandering fingers find the growing bulge in his shorts.

Cheeks starting to dust a red and Shizuo's fingers dangerously close to his groin, Izaya huffs in annoyance. "What did you want, a love confession? How boringly romantic, Shizu-chan. Is that the only reason why you're holding me hostage?"

Shizuo licks tentative swipes, feeling Izaya's chest rise and fall with little stutters in between. "If that's what you want, go ahead." When Izaya won't look at him, he figures it's time for a little initiative. "C'mon, Shizuo _rabu,_" he murmurs low in his throat, fingers dancing over the prominent bulge in Izaya's shorts and inwardly mocking how uncomfortable Izaya is.

When Izaya doesn't make a sound, Shizuo's fingers press into a half-hard erection and hear the moan that comes from him, smug all the while. "Here, I'll even say it first: I hate you."

Fingers knead into Izaya's shorts, hearing his teeth grind when Shizuo sucks on his ear and laughs to himself. "Sh-Shizu-chan, _stop_ it," he groans, trying to mask it with a hiss that Shizuo can easily see through. When Shizuo doesn't give an answer but a hum that means _try again, _Izaya doesn't expect himself to do much—that is, until Shizuo's fingers press against him hard and make him swallow heavily.

"Sh-Shizuo r-_ah_—bu," he grinds his teeth, feeling the heavy pressure and his erection swelling far too much to be comfortable in his shorts anymore. When the kneading doesn't stop he squirms and pants, not wanting to make a mess of himself as quickly as his stomach coils with arousal.

"_Shizuo_ rabu!"

And then the fingers are still on him but stroking softly, a rumble of laughter in his throat and then kisses trail down Izaya's jawline, Izaya's face just starting to burn with humiliation and anger. "There, not so bad, right? Knew you had it in you." Izaya growls again, cut short when Shizuo's hand dips into his shorts and his entire body tenses.

"I hate Shizu-chan," he seethes, but he's not going anywhere.

"Yeah, love you too." And arms tighten around him, just for emphasis.

* * *

_Uh oh~ a naughty one, what am I up to. Well, I did get inspired shortly by my own idea of Shizuo being a cuddly teddy bear and then I was reminded of **Hito Rabu** and then fun things happened._

_Let me know if you want me to change the rating for this, or if you would like more of chapters like this one._

_Thank you for reading._


	14. Hair Care

Dripping wet after a hot shower, Izaya comes out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, just as Shizuo decides to turn his head. And then he notices the hairdryer in one hand, no cord to be seen coming from any part of it.

It's not a good idea. Not when Izaya is baring his chest, all the marks of possession flaring red like stop signs and really, Shizuo can see the extent of how far kiss marks go, from suggestive circles around salmon pink nipples down to his hips, where the bites start turning purple and Shizuo reconsiders if marking Izaya _there _is a good idea because inevitably, it stirs his groin easily.

"What are you staring at, Shizu-chan?" Izaya is a tricky little bastard who can easily follow Shizuo's line of sight, one hand circling around a particularly large bruise that dips lower than the towel falls. Shizuo's swallow, the tense and release of muscles, is painfully obvious. "Don't you know it's rude to stare, ne? You're looking at me like breakfast, but I'm not a piece of meat, beast."

Shizuo's eyes narrow, maybe pupils blowing wider and taking his time to make even more of a show of glancing at each and every mark on Izaya's body, knowing the slight tingling of marks from the flea on him just the same, but Izaya looks like he _enjoys _being devoured by a beast's eyes. Which makes it even better, just as Izaya raises an eyebrow when Shizuo's tongue darts out to lick his lips.

"Mm, but there's no menu for me to look at, flea." Shizuo doesn't move his eyes away, challenging Izaya's haughty stare and with the quirk of his own lips into a smirk. "So I'll take what I can see right in front of me."

Izaya swallows.

Either by intent or accident—it doesn't really matter at this point, no one is certainly bothered by it—Izaya's towel falls, slipping to the floor and leaving Shizuo's boyfriend completely naked, standing in his apartment like Shizuo is an unexpected surprise but makes no move to pull it back up. Standing there he looks like a sore thumb, with the lavish expenses of anything in his apartment _nothing _compared to the elegance Izaya can easily pull off, looking like a god so easily he could have his own religion in a second flat.

Hell, even Shizuo would worship that—especially the slow drop of his eyes to the tufts of curly dark pubic hair, just above a sight that is meant strictly for his eyes.

And then Shizuo decides to hell with it, because no one is going to be able to worship his boyfriend. Or see—unless if it's the marks up his throat that say _mine _and Izaya never says no. Not with watching Shizuo's every move, smirking because he knows _exactly _what he's doing when he steps over his towel, sauntering over like a jaguar stalking its prey.

No, he doesn't mind at all.

"Dry my hair for me, ne?" The hairdryer doesn't get too far because it falls onto the couch precariously, Izaya not minding at all when he knows exactly what Shizuo sees and invites even more, climbing into Shizuo's lap and situating himself neatly on Shizuo's thighs.

"What's this?" Shizuo stifles a laugh, feeling water drip into his clothing and ignoring it entirely. "You trying to romance me, flea?" He takes the hairdryer and not long after Izaya's lips are on his throat, ghosting breaths where Shizuo can feel the smirk that's always there. "'Cause if you are, you're failing. Could it kill you to be a little, y'know, sincere?"

Izaya pouts, bringing his head back up at the touch of Shizuo's fingers down the nape of his neck, finding a patch of skin to rub small circles and make Izaya lose his train of thought easily. "If it's Shizu-chan, it will. And Shizu-chan doesn't deserve it. You did want to eat me, ne? Maybe I'll just go dry my hair where you can't get tempted." And just like that he tries to squirm away but Shizuo knows this routine a little too well and his arm locks around Izaya, pushing Izaya's head close to his so their lips are less than an inch apart, no chance to look away.

"Who says I'm giving up free breakfast?" Then remembering that even though no one else is here and Izaya's lower regions are quite prominent, being half-hard and all, and then playing with a scowl. "I'll take my money's worth, since you're so keen on giving me what I want." Shizuo's fingers travel lower and the second they touch Izaya's breath catches in his throat abruptly, sounding suspiciously like choking over a moan. A blanket isn't anywhere nearby except for the arm of the couch, Shizuo remembers, after finding himself draped in it while waiting up for Izaya. With a distinct plan in mind he takes it, wrapping it around Izaya's hips with a warning look to the pout on Izaya's lips.

"Ne, Shizu-chan makes up the strangest ideas," Izaya's eyes are hazy and he licks his lips, mimicking Shizuo absently while covering a shudder crawling up his spine. When Shizuo laughs, he parts his knees and moves Izaya down to the floor, sitting him between his knees for better reach while he grabs the hairdryer.

"You're the one that makes 'em, flea." One click and the hairdryer whooshes to life, starting with back and forth motions over Izaya's head. All the teasing going on eventually trickles into silence, the television clicking on when Izaya grabs the remote and lying one side of his head against Shizuo's knee, letting the gentle fingers in his hair massage his scalp as he relaxes.

Silence starts to take over, just beneath the murmur of television—_cartoons_, because it's Saturday and that means Izaya has his morning ritual of watching cartoons. Shizuo doesn't know what he sees in them, humming along to the opening theme of a new show and snickering to himself as he combs his fingers through Izaya's hair, careful to gently untangle any snags that stop him. The hairdryer buzzes on, eventually drying the wet stains on Shizuo's pants that make Izaya keep squirming to avoid.

Just as his boyfriend's hair is done, Shizuo clicks off the dryer and sets it down, running his fingers through the silky tamed version of Izaya's hair, feeling Izaya nuzzle into his leg. But when he removes his fingers, Izaya's hair stays in the slicked up version, confusing Shizuo for a minute.

And Izaya has horrific timing. "Thank you, Shizu-chan, for not attempting to strangle me with a cordless hairdryer," Izaya turns back and away from his precious cartoons for a minute, "now to think that you didn't mess up my hair, or burn it off with your brutish stupidity." Shizuo's lips curl into a smirk, softening into a smile as to not give anything away but still holding back laughter as Izaya's head raises from his knee, hair sticking up in the same way Shizuo has been drying it.

Karma sure is a bitch. Shizuo can't help but laugh, noticing the mohawk made of Izaya's hair that flops a little when he moves, but still stays in shape and completely ruining anything serious or seductive about Izaya's expression. "Ne, why laugh at me, Shizu-chan?" Izaya pauses for a minute and Shizuo points, reclining on the sofa with a devilish expression because it is _hilarious _to see that brief moment of panic, right as Izaya's hand goes to his hair and his eyes widen considerably.

"Shizu-chan!" Izaya whines, batting at his bouncy hair and growling when Shizuo's fingers play with the messy hairdo, making him even angrier. "What was that for?" Just as his hands ball into fists Shizuo pulls Izaya into his stomach, burying his head and wrapping his arms around Izaya's back, laughing without restraint. Izaya's fists beat on him and he's not light at all, almost hurting when he throws a mean punch while Shizuo keeps laughing at him.

Finally after a few moments Izaya calms down, possibly accepting defeat. "I hate you, Shizu-chan. I despise everything about you." It's a sincere confession, if not oddly worded and only incentive for Shizuo to keep laughing, chuckling under his breath. "Go die," he squirms but his voice is muffled in Shizuo's shirt, right before a heavy sigh of disappointment.

"Love you, moron." Shizuo kisses the top of Izaya's fluffy hair, hiding his smile as Izaya stills. "And you look fine, anyway. Quit bitching about it."

Or maybe, Izaya is plotting revenge.

* * *

_I fell at work yesterday and only now I'm feeling the pain. Anyway, have some fluff while I go to work again and pretend I'm not dying or about to fall from the bruises I have. Really have got to stop doing that._

_Thank you for reading._


	15. Soap Bubbles

Bathing isn't so important as it is just as remarkable as breathing air. Automatic, especially with having a relationship and saving water is generally important. At Izaya's apartment, he knows the reason why they shower together and it's not to save water. No, there's plenty more of that where that came from.

One of the main reasons Izaya finds the act more than just routine is the opportunity, rare and hard enough to get, is to get Shizuo to let Izaya bathe him. Now the prospect of washing a monster—especially one that growls and shakes his head because of some reason or another. It's always the same mumble of it being _his _job to bathe himself.

Really, no creativity whatsoever even when they're in the space of Izaya's shower. And when undressing, pulling a plain shirt over and off of toned muscle and lightly tanned skin, Izaya can't help but watch the free show for more than just a second or two.

"Oi, flea," Shizuo's fingers fumble with his belt and Izaya's twitch in sympathy, wanting to help with that and knowing the predatory look that's in his eyes. Shizuo can see it clearly, his own brown ones narrowing in silent question. "Aren't you gonna get undressed? You're the one who likes showering with me."

Not entirely true—Shizu-chan does too. In fact, he's the one who usually insists for Izaya to join him, just to "save water" even though Izaya's hot water is in no danger of strain with another person using it. Even with short showers, a learned habit and not nearly enough time for other things, which is quite the shame.

Izaya's shirt unbuttons, actually managing to look halfway decent even when it's his day off and there really isn't a need, but sometimes just making Shizu-chan scowl is worth it all. The shirt, however, neatly folds on the counter top where there is plenty of space, soon with Izaya's pants joining and the look on Shizuo's face is priceless when discovering that Izaya prefers comfort over proper dress code.

Well, it is _his _apartment after all. "Ne, Shizu-chan, does it take you so long to take off your clothes?" The lack of timing is making his patience wear far too thin to last. And before long Shizuo doesn't have time to reply, only murmuring a growl when Izaya walks over in his full glory—Shizu-chan should be _thankful_ to get a glimpse—and his hands manage to unbuckle the belt, then traveling down to unbutton and unzip Shizuo's jeans. "You're bathing with _me, _so I expect a little respect, ne? Don't keep me waiting." Seeing as Shizu-chan is just too unfit for the job, Izaya's fingers hook in the waistband and into boxers, pulling them off as he starts to get a little more impatient.

"What the hell's with you?" Shizuo kicks off his clothing at Izaya's look of distaste, fingers skimming over his boyfriend's arms and then reaching lower, just before Izaya grabs his wrists and all contact is lost.

Izaya slides into the space between them, legs brushing and skin humming when it meets Shizuo's in an interesting sort of shivering effect it has on him. "You're taking a bath with me, Shizu-chan, so hurry it up. I don't want to stand around waiting on your limited capabilities." Shizuo's eyes narrow as Izaya's lips linger dangerously close to his, knowing what Izaya means and suddenly not as interested anymore. Because whenever Izaya wants to take his precious bath, it means he won't sit for sitting on top of Shizuo, even if the bathtub is big enough for the two of them to move around comfortably.

Which it is, and Izaya's a rich bastard.

"Ne, don't look at me like that, Shizu-chan." Izaya's arms come up and link around Shizuo's neck, pulling Shizuo down for a quick brush of lips, warm and inviting with the first taste of the devil's fruit he has to offer. "You always get to hold onto me and squeeze me until my organs squish, so it's only fair you can grace me with the attempt to try being an actual_ lover _instead of murderer." Izaya plays the right hand in his little game, lips nuzzling Shizuo's to make his point inherently clear.

Reluctantly, Shizu-chan's fingers intertwine in Izaya's as he steps back, leading him into the bathtub, a square thing that doubles as a large shower, the size of Shizuo's bathroom. Without breaking his devilish persona Izaya sits against the cold white of the edge, turning on the faucets. Clearly he's enjoying this, and he wants Shizuo to know as he takes in the changing murky expressions of his boyfriend.

Sometimes switching things around has never been a comfortable topic. Shizuo always has some masculinity complex which Izaya loves to toy with, loves to break and fix with his own hands. It's worth the unguarded expressions of his, the ones from coy to surprise and pain to pleasure, sometimes a mix of in between and ending in bliss when things go right and Shizu-chan just lets go for once.

"Fuckin' flea, I know you're up to something." Izaya's free hand dips into the water, testing it before plugging the drain and Shizuo sitting on the toilet seat, scowling away. "You never do this shit unless you're up to something."

"Shizu-chan," Izaya's fingers give a squeeze that Shizuo doesn't look reassured by. "If I was planning something, we would be in the bedroom. And you would be under me, flushed, moaning, and so hard you'd come if I touched you." Sometimes Shizuo forgets how explicit Izaya can be at the most random times.

It doesn't fail to make his eyes divert before challenging the lazy, inviting expression of Izaya's always with that spark of mischievousness that means trouble. "You're fucking disgusting." Usually it's Shizu-chan's job to do the dirty talk. Like Izaya tends to think, switching isn't so bad when it has potential for fun.

But he doesn't say any more as the water starts to rise, their hands linked in between them like middle schoolers but they've had practice at this, many dates and many times where the little things become habit. And if they're not there, then there is that nagging feeling of something missing. It's hard to imagine, how to be vulnerable enough to feel these sorts of things when they've become routine. Comfortable, nestled right in with personality and hard to find the cause of.

Izaya gives a tug to his hand, the smirk on his face fades to something else, torn and twisted into something only he can pull off so well. If he means sincerity, then it doesn't do much to get Shizu-chan to follow him in, as his feet splash in the water and he looks expectantly at his boyfriend, a clear expression of not taking no for an answer on his face when he cocks his head in question.

Shizuo sighs, never giving up the gentle closing of fingers in his to follow Izaya into the steaming water, not keen on getting anywhere near him. Of course they've been naked plenty of times before—Shizuo can be a prude or what he likes to call _having morals _and Izaya's morals do not align with those. So he takes the fun in watching Shizu-chan, without the barrier of his clothes, without the barrier of anything but skin.

The results are interesting. "Ah, not going to join me, Shizu-chan?" Izaya's fingers find themselves empty as Shizuo moves away to another corner, not that far away but taking advantage of the large bathtub. Scowling, he completely ignores Izaya as he stretches his legs and doesn't even glance back at his disappointed boyfriend.

Silence. The tap of Izaya's fingers on the bathtub wall, meaning he's getting annoyed at being the only one participating in this conversation.

"What's to worry about? We do this all the time, so there's no difference here, ne?" Izaya loves the sound of his voice, Shizuo knows this because silence never stays long around them. "Unless you're afraid of losing your masculinity to sitting with me, in a bath, just because I asked you to." The scowl on Shizuo's lips deepens and at this rate he'll have wrinkles. Not that it's avoidable.

"I'm sitting with you, the hell are you ranting about." Shizuo grumbles, making a gesture as Izaya scoops up water and wets his hair, turning off the faucets. When the black hair sticks to his face he looks much different—the frame heightens the red of blood in his eyes. "Can't fricking do things without doing them your way, hah?"

Izaya looks amused. It's only fair that he is. "Shizu-chan, are you saying you're nervous about letting me hold you?" And he knows, obviously, what the reason is as soon as he wets his hair again, not taking anything for an answer except what he wants to hear. If he listens to Shizuo and his stubbornness, they will never get out.

"I'd rather squish _you_." Shizuo retorts, crossing his arms and pouting like a petulant child. "Why the hell do you want to make me sit on you? Jealous that I'm bigger than you?"

"But I'm older, Shizu-chan," Izaya makes a point and just has to rub it in, to make it all that sweeter. "And I don't mind being captured by a beast who claims not to attempt murder every time we shower. So this time, I want you to sit with me." Another heavy sigh for someone twice his age, not a blond beast threatened with letting Izaya hold onto him. It's not even that big of a deal, until Shizu-chan makes it one.

Shizuo suddenly moves, slowly but he doesn't stop until skin meets skin and Izaya holds back a laugh for how annoyed Shizuo looks, akin to a soaking wet cat rubbed in all the wrong ways. "Besides," Izaya closes in over his ear and his arms wrap around Shizuo, preventing escape, "I love doing the things you hate."

It takes more strength to _not _break the bathtub and Izaya in half. The urge starts to fade when Izaya stops talking for now, humming lowly under his breath and only quietly enough that Shizuo can barely hear. One of his odd little quirks, never knowing why or how it starts.

While he's distracted, Izaya's hands scoop water to his hair, letting it fall down his back and shoulders as his hair darkens. Just as he thinks it's fine to relax a little more, Izaya's lips trail down the skin beneath his right ear, chasing a stray drop of water down to his collarbone. Shizuo has half the mind to tell him to knock it off, but the hands massaging his have some semblance of a promise, meaning no games and no picking fights.

Shizuo's eyes close right around after the shampoo comes from his hair, thick globs necessary because bleached hair is a fussy thing. Izaya notices the gradual recline, legs falling between his and sliding a little lower so that eventually his head rests on Izaya's shoulder. Even with as defenseless as he looks, it's never a good idea to try _anything _when it's not Shizu-chan's idea. He's not that stupid.

The conditioner in Izaya's hair comes when Shizuo suddenly gets up, turns, and his hands are rubbing it in—_gently—_which is a surprise for many reasons until his lips are on Izaya's, and then it's just a matter of lips and introductions of tongue. Nowhere far tonight, not when there is no need to be impatient.

They have all night. Nights like these don't come so easily, when either of them are awake enough to cause a fuss.

So it's not the greatest idea of Shizuo's, when he mouths something along the lines of _trust me _and it's all very touching—enough to make Izaya's lungs constrict and possibly not when he finds himself submerged, still in a tight kiss and the air stolen right out of his lungs. Just long enough, the echoing feeling of water invading his ears, pressing tight and Shizu-chan's lips on his, only darkness for any source of guidance.

And then back up, soaking wet and most of the conditioner out of his hair. Izaya breaks the kiss first, namely because he isn't a monster and air is a vital source of keeping alive. While he rubs his eyes, however, he hears Shizu-chan laughing at him (when he clearly has no right to) and hands are loosely wrapped around him, teasing him by now.

"Not so bad, ne?" Izaya shuts him up with another kiss, lingering and buzzing after being submerged in warm water—that's all he tells himself.

Shizuo doesn't agree, preferring to bite Izaya's bottom lip until Izaya pulls away, tasting blood and narrowing his eyes.

"I love doing the things you hate," he mimics, baring his teeth. Izaya's hand comes up to brush his hair back, exposing his forehead and poking him.

"Good to know, Shizu-chan." Izaya never admits defeat. Not even with a silencing kiss. "I still hate you."

"Hate you too," a pause, the careful considering of nothing just to appear like it matters, "asshole."

* * *

_Fun fact: Did you know that Izaya is nearly one year older than Shizuo? Look it up. _

_Thank you for reading._


	16. Playing Nurse

When Izaya skips his way over to Shizu-chan's apartment, he expects the door to be locked and awaiting to be picked. Which is fine, as far as normal situations go, since Shizu-chan can be a little feisty whenever Izaya decides to drop in unexpectedly while also humming a tuneless song, possibly just to make the mocking sink in a little deeper.

However, coming upon the cracked open door of Shizuo's apartment, Izaya has no need to stand there and gawk—no, he simply toes the door open, hears the protesting creak of old hinges, and steps in.

The lights are off in the living room, as far as Izaya can tell but when he looks down the hall, the tentative wash of light seeping from Shizu-chan's bedroom is the easiest thing to see. Behind him the door closes, locks—because it's Izaya's job to mess with Shizuo anyway—and Izaya follows the light, an expressionless smirk kept in place.

As he approaches the door, the light spills over his socks and he knows never to not make himself known when a cornered beast is involved. One rap of his knuckles against the door should do it. "Shizu-chan?"

Behind the door, a muffled string of heavy curses hits against the wood like throwing knives. Clearly Shizu-chan isn't happy, not even as Izaya opens his bedroom door and finds the sight of Shizuo, sitting on his bed with one of his many first-aid kits popped open with the decoration of supplies all over his bed.

"My, my, Shizu-chan, I never took you for playing nurse." Izaya leans against the door frame, shutting the door behind himself and watching those brown eyes, snapping to him with an unamused glare as he stops, holding a roll of bandage over the slow wrapping of the other hand. He looks worse for wear, probably from pushing himself too hard if he's using bandages and there are plenty of stained tissues, the color of dried roses, drifting to the floor.

"Shut up." Shizuo turns back to the sloppy wrapping, Izaya catching glimpses of angry red skin dotted with clots of dried blood. "What the fuck are you doing here, flea?"

"Business." A quiet snort interrupts him and the smirk turns into a closed smile, taking in Shizu-chan's condition with an observant gaze. "Seeing as it has to do with you leaving your door open for all of Ikebukuro to witness a monster in its lair, ne, Shizu-chan?"

Simple luck makes it so that Izaya can dodge just before the roll of bandages slams into the wall, creating a small dent before rolling to the floor. Izaya doesn't look back, keeping his eyes on the beast and waiting for any answer.

"'s none of your business."

Izaya's fingers pluck the bandages from the ground, winding it back up in slow circles. "It is when you don't answer my texts, Shizu-chan. You almost had me think you were cheating on me."

"Tch. What stopped you?" Shizuo watches Izaya as he makes his way over to the bed, stepping over discarded tissues to return the bandages. But when Shizuo grabs them, Izaya doesn't let go.

He's waiting for an answer, as infuriating as that is. When Izaya leans forward Shizuo can't help the automatic tip back, hissing under his breath when he tries to stabilize himself as lips hover over his, warm breaths drying over the wet saliva from teeth marks starting to set in. Tired of waiting for the flea to make up his mind, he uses his weaker arm to pull himself closer, brushing lips and feeling the sting of pain from what may be a broken bone or two.

"Shizu-chan shouldn't be hurting himself," Izaya's lips move against his, nuzzling and never further than a chaste welcome kiss. "That's my job, ne? You'd think by now Shizu-chan could control himself, but you're still just a child..." That earns him a pinch to the nape of his neck and a shiver of pain down Shizuo's arm.

"Shut up and do something useful for once, flea bastard." Shizuo pulls away, licking at his bottom lip when one of the scabs pops open and blood trickles in slow movements, Izaya's red eyes on him and he can feel the burn of curious interest. The bandage roll is surrendered back to Izaya, who doesn't have to argue any further to clear a space on the small bed, sitting down with his little prize in hand.

Looking at one arm covered almost entirely in differing degrees of road rash, Izaya makes a move to ask, but his tongue stills and perches between his lips. Just as he waits for Shizuo to extend the raw limb in a reticent way of asking for assistance, he notices the subtle divot over the red skin, going deeper into bone.

And it just so appears that there are splints that come with the first-aid kit, along with various assortments of creams for burns and just about everything. And in all courtesy Izaya doesn't ask, sifting through the many supplies to grab what he needs, popping off a lid of ointment with a scoop of white oily burn cream on his fingers. Eying a particularly large bruise setting in, he connects it with the dent in Shizu-chan's arm.

"Going to tell what happened, Shizu-chan?" The first hiss of skin and cold vibrates in between clenched teeth. The silence, following a short growl, probably means no. Not while Izaya's fingers gently stroke and massage into raw flesh, torn and the white cream starting to turn pink from broken clots. On his lap, the fingers of the same arm clench into his thigh, close to drawing blood if they wanted to.

He won't. Both of them know he can't.

The first press of bandage against skin brings Shizuo back to the present, the burn cream setting in and white starting at the first reach of raw skin up his arm. Izaya watches the slow-burn reaction of registering some sort of pain, light fingers pulling and tightening the bandage as it slowly winds down his upper arm, just to the crook of his elbow.

Shizuo's free hand grabs the splints, Izaya's eyebrow rises in an unreadable expression. It probably isn't good, what Shizuo thinks, but he knows better. Just as Izaya does, pressing the wood close to Shizuo's forearm and then starting to wrap, making a strange cast out of bandages and splints.

"Got hit by a semi-truck." Shizuo starts, fingers on his arm never pausing when Izaya's lips quirk into a half-smile. "Some bastard decided to run off, and the fucker barely managed to survive the goddamn truck, but I..."

Oh, Shizu-chan. Such a heroic beast, even to his own prey.

"You pushed him out of the way?" Izaya tsks, finishing the roll of bandage at Shizuo's wrist and taping it down, fingers sliding over a hand and pressing into the bruised skin. "You saved an online Romeo to collect his debt? The truck would have done less than you would." A laugh breaks through, Shizuo deciding he's heard _enough _and that laugh doesn't sound so confident, not when his lips muffle it in a slick kiss.

And leaning forward has taken its toll, Izaya watches as Shizuo has to pull back, one leg drawing up to his chest and another left alone, probably injured with the careful placement of his ankle. He probably should have gone to Shinra, but he'd rather not be hounded for giving blood samples or prostate exams.

_Yeah, no thank you, _Shizuo thinks, Izaya watching him with those observing eyes of his, down his leg and then moving forward, to press another kiss to Shizuo's open mouth with a brief clash of tongue. And Shizu-chan is supposed to be the greedy one.

"You've got to stop destroying semi-trucks, Shizu-chan," Izaya laughs, rolling up the pant leg to the purple flesh of a broken ankle, humming tonelessly to himself once again. "It'll keep piling onto your debt, ne? And you don't want that."

Under his breath, Shizuo growls something unintelligible. Izaya doesn't mind, until he feels fingers at the back of his head, one more hot kiss slanting against his mouth, and the grasp on his hair means _stay _for a little longer.

"Shizu-chan..." Really, he has to learn his lesson sometime.

* * *

_More Izuo, because there's never enough, according to me. There's plenty of Shizaya I have written down, but why not take the time to enjoy something new, ne?_

_Thank you for reading._


	17. Mutual Desire

"O-Oi..." Shizuo's eyes are wide, watching, almost narrowing when Izaya's hand slithers lower, tugging at the waistband on his pants. The long, slender fingers tap on Shizuo's pants, shirt already untucked and hitched up high on his waist, as if waiting for something _more._

This is a horrible idea. Especially bad, with the tingling burn in his cheeks and squirming even more, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, splitting when Izaya's fingers trace circles into his skin. He's probably enjoying it, the smarmy bastard, right before he has to leave like the asshole he is. For _work, _he calls it, and the kisses are unwanted from there on out.

"Shizu-chan..." A sharp nip to his ear, breaths hiking up and the fingers _tap, tap, tap, _until Shizuo feels like breaking off the damn flea's fingers. "You said you needed a demonstration, so what are you waiting for?" Stupid goddamn boyfriend, stupid work, fucking _everything _wrong with this.

"I didn't say to fucking molest me." Shizuo snaps, tugging his head away from Izaya's greedy mouth hovering constantly over his ear. "Don't you have to leave? Get off of me, and go." He hates saying it, hates being in this position when the tables are turned and Izaya thinks he's all high and mighty. Some white horse he must be riding on.

"But Shizu-chan, I thought you wanted this." Izaya pouts, fingers teasing as they dip into Shizuo's pants, breaths going stale and tight because he _does, _but not like this. "You can't expect me to ignore it, ne? Even you said that you can't—mmpf!"

The hand slapping over his mouth, tightening dangerously in warning to _knock it the fuck off _makes itself inherently clear. Shizuo uses his other hand to pull Izaya's fingers from his pants, sighing at the stupid tactics Izaya uses. Of course he knows exactly what he's doing. He knows why Izaya is so damn persistent to get his hands in his pants, but that doesn't mean...

"I know what I said, so shut the fuck up and stop trying to get into my pants."

Izaya laughs at this, dry chuckles echoing into Shizuo's palm. Usually it's the other way around, and Izaya must be humoring himself on this change of pace. Slowly, a mistake or not, the hand comes from Izaya's mouth and it's a death sentence the moment it does.

A dry kiss to his temple. "Ne, but you always get to have your way with me. So it's only fair that I help you out, ne? Like a good lover, while I go off on a job." Izaya's fingers rub into warm skin, muscles tightening beneath his touch and the mantra of _oh shit _because Shizuo knows exactly just how far the flea's determination runs.

Pretty damn far.

"Besides, if we can't have sex while I'm gone, and you don't think you'd be able to take care of yourself..." Izaya drawls, eyes glimmering from what Shizuo can imagine, lower lip tugged between his teeth, purring like a cat with the cream—fuck. Just _stop. _"Then it'd be a painful weekend for you then, ne? Although it's not my fault that Shizu-chan needs to fuck so often. Just think of it as doing a favor."

"Favors mean more than that to you, flea." Shizuo snarls, pushing away from Izaya and sighing heavily to himself. Having to deal with this pest is more than he bargained for. "Go to Hokkaido and stop pissing me off."

And hands are on him, returning lower and lower just as his groin starts to take an interest. Fuck. "Why be embarrassed? It's nothing to be ashamed of. Feeling good, that is." One hand comes to tilt Shizuo's head to the side, met with only some resistance but it never lasts long. Lips collide in a rougher kiss, Izaya clearly trying to get him worked up and as much as Shizuo wants to deny it, the bastard knows how to make him turned on and mad as fuck.

_Because you're leaving. Again._

"'m not embarrassed, you just make a joke out of everything. I can damn well do it myself." Shizuo doesn't want to admit that the massaging shapes into his skin feels good. When it's Izaya and he knows how to do shit like that, it's just not fair. Heaven delivered by the devil himself, and he still doesn't know what he's gotten himself in to.

Hands slide lower, at this point there's no reason to resist. Not when he knows Izaya will be gone for a week, not just this weekend and canceling any ideas of actually managing to hang out for once. From there it's feeling lips down his jaw, over his ear again and again as Izaya makes sure that he's not saying no.

If he says the word, Izaya stops. He'll give up a hell of a fight, but he won't go any further.

That's why it dances on his lips, over his tongue and shakily sliding when his head tips back, met in another softer, coaxing kiss.

"Let me," he breathes against the crease of lips and teeth and sliding his tongue over them, waiting patiently.

As much as he wants to say it—he can't. A short tilt of his head down and then back up sentences him to his fate.

Izaya's fingers dip lower, into his boxers and with the warmth from Shizuo's skin starting to soak into them, it's not as bad as Izaya's usual cold. It still feels irritating, the difference in temperature more prominent when hands slide over Shizuo's shaft, pulling it from his pants when they slide down to mid-thigh.

"Just _watch,_" Izaya murmurs into his ear with a cat-like lick, damn near purring when Shizuo's half-hard length is in front of him and Izaya's fingers circle the base, tightening to the hardening flesh. As if he expects it, he pauses, until the shudder races down Shizuo's back and he wants to punch the bastard in the face.

"Tell me what you like, ne? That way you can remember." Izaya purrs, starting with a slow, experimental thrust up with his fingers, all the way the tip and Shizuo can feel himself becoming even harder, just feeling Izaya touch him.

Shizuo doesn't have anything to say—not besides the hiss that isn't of complaint, but when Izaya's fingers stroke him again, building up speed and making the friction start to burn from dry skin. From there he reaches the tip again, circling the ridges and carefully his thumbnail dips into the slit, where precome slips in a tiny bead, running down the side and over Izaya's fingers.

"Shizu-chan," Izaya's fingers lift up from his dick and the loss is frustrating already, "_relax._ If you're tense, I can't show you how to do this." Fingers tap on his lip, waiting, and if this bastard thinks he's going to—

Lips attack beneath his ear, licking and sucking until Shizuo can't hold back the groan and Izaya's fingers slide into his mouth, the bastard probably laughing his ass off while Shizuo nips at his fingers, only two of them wrestling with his tongue. "It's not so bad, ne? But since we don't have any more lube, we'll have to improvise." Izaya smirks, just in his voice and Shizuo is sure he's going to kill him.

His fingers leave not soon enough, wet and with teeth marks—revenge, Shizuo sees fit—and then travel back down his stomach, hovering and circling over his erection just to tease. The warning growl Shizuo makes has those hands back on him, wet and warm.

"No games, nothing else," Izaya murmurs, kissing the mark under Shizuo's ear as he starts stroking again, fingers tracing a vein and then circling, always fucking _circling _the head, making this even harder to not kill the flea. "Watch, see what I'm doing? You can trace, add more pressure, add less, alternate from base to tip." That velvet voice in his ear is only demonic, sinful and as much as Shizuo hates it, it's not bad. No, on the contrary, when his boyfriend decides to be a little shit _and _useful, it's almost forgivable.

"Then you can increase the speed, like _this,_" oh fuck, Shizuo feels his teeth grinding just from hiding another moan bubbling up, unwillingly because Izaya's fist tightens when it nears the head, thumbnail scraping over the underside of his head and it's almost too much at once. "And find what you're comfortable with, ne?"

"Sh-shit," Shizuo swallows heavily, biting his lower lip in an attempt to not sound as horny as he is. Izaya makes a noise of agreement, continuing the strokes with more precome sliding up and down, all over, just from being this turned on.

"Show me what you like, Shizu-chan," Izaya grabs one of his hands, puts it over his and stops, waiting and Shizuo just wants to tell him to keep _going_ but he knows what the bastard's waiting for. A fucking invitation, not moving but tightening his fingers, waiting for Shizuo's fingers to slip through his with a laugh of "Was it really that bad, Shizu-chan?" and of fucking course it is. But as long as Izaya's fingers move, tightening from base to head, speeding up, he doesn't mind at all.

"And you can also try something else," Izaya has that same stupid smirk in his voice, wicked with knowing something Shizuo doesn't and stops their hands, taking Shizuo's finger and rubbing it over the slit. Just like that, molten lead pools in his spine and he almost bucks, sucking in a harsh breath from the tremble of pleasure shooting up his veins like a high-quality drug.

"Ah, fuck," Izaya only continues stroking while Shizuo thumbs his slit, watching and pressing kisses to his throat, when his boyfriend finally starts to relax. More delicious noises come out, just as he moves his head to demand a kiss, moaning softly when Izaya encourages him to keep going.

Pleasure coils tightly in his veins, down to his stomach and lower where he feels like it's on fire, Izaya's lips moving down his jaw and nipping at his throat, knowing exactly where it feels the best with enough times of doing not quite _this _before.

"Finish yourself off, Shizu-chan," Izaya's hand moves and Shizuo growls at him, daring him to fucking try it and his head will go through the wall. He hears that haughty little laugh, fingers tightening around him and stroking the ridges, just to make it even harder to keep his head on straight. "Come on, come on, let me see," as lewd of a bastard he is there's no point, not when the words go straight to his dick, pulsing as Izaya licks down his throat, attaching to another spot where his pulse jumps.

"Bastard," Shizuo's voice sounds tight, curling into the sensation of when his thumb smears more precome, the hand on him pulling faster and he can't hold on for that much longer. "S-Stop, _playing_," another moan he can't swallow, too much building up fast.

It only takes another second, one more rough stroke of Izaya's hands and the dig of his thumbnail into the slit to make him come. Not hard like after really good sex, but the point that's satisfying, for now, with white spilling into Izaya's hand and his eyes clenching shut, blackness taking over.

"Congratulations, Shizu-chan," Izaya wipes himself off with nearby tissues, taking a second to lick off come from his fingers and smirk at the way Shizuo doesn't glance at him. "Now you know how to masturbate."

It's not enough. It's not.

"Yeah, whatever." Glancing up at the time and cringing, after his eyes open and he feels the lazy feeling melt away. "You're gonna be late for your train. Now fuck off."

Izaya's arms leave him, hopping over the sofa to grab his bags—not without suddenly bending forward, one kiss goodbye. "Not even a thank you? Shizu-chan is so me~an!" A growl answers him the way out, door shutting behind him in a final click.

Tch, it's not like it's ever the same without him.

Not at all.

* * *

_You didn't honestly think I'd write an instructional guide on masturbating, now did you? Neither did I. Not without my own twist, that is._

_Thank you for reading._


	18. In Chains

Izaya pants hard, laughing under his breath when he surveys the damage all around him in the abandoned car parking lot he's found himself in, nearing the top of the building on the fifth floor. Some old cars remain, covered in dust and all of the windows have been shattered to his knowledge, the rest of the cars bent and twisted into unimaginable shapes.

"Flea!" That's his cue to get going, but he just can't resist. Why not, when it's another chance to play with Shizu-chan? Even with the blood trickling from a cut on his forehead into his eye, he can't imagine not having a little fun. "Get back here!" Shizu-chan is so cute when he thinks he can get what he wants just by yelling at it. Although he's not so far off, shards of glass crunching beneath his feet with blood over his knuckles dusting the next car he's been kicking around with quite the awful sound.

"Ne, didn't you ever learn that yelling—" A car comes flying and Izaya forces his legs to move, darting over a car and trying not to slip on the oil puddles streaking the ground. "Doesn't get what Shizu-chan wants?" Skidding to a stop he breezes dangerously close to the edge, catching on a column to regain his balance and get a chance to glance down when he slips, five stories up.

Saliva catches in his throat and he swallows hard. "Then quit running away, damn flea! Get back here so I can kick your ass _properly_." Quite the promise, tempting as it is, but Izaya doesn't find that any more interesting than meeting his death prematurely. Heart still pounding, his chest heaves as he catches more breaths and tries to calm down before Shizu-chan can see him, notice that all isn't exactly well.

A wrench comes flying at Izaya who has enough skill to notice and dodge the rusted metal flying at his head, feeling it embed in the concrete above him with a loud cracking noise. Deciding it best to move he notices the chains hanging down the wall, meant to be a barrier and sees a perfect escape.

After all, it's not every day Izaya can piss off his boyfriend without a good chase. And all for such a stupid reason, really, he never would have thought—

"I-za-ya!" Shizu-chan is closing in as Izaya notices in irritation, catching the chains before yet another vehicle flies toward him, just as his hands catch the chain meant to swing himself onto the lower level. Only this time he hears the clinking of chains rattling, not the thunderous feet of the monster of Ikebukuro approaching and not the pound of his heart kicking into overdrive when Izaya realizes that the chains have been ripped free.

"Shizu—!" One foot over the over, heart leaping straight into his throat and glass shards sliding under his feet. And then there's nothing beneath him, nothing but falling and turning on his heels to catch the utter expression of surprise on Shizuo's face when the chains drag him down.

Luckily he doesn't stay frozen for long in free fall, seeing the chains below still intact while he falls and making one hopeless leap to grab onto them and body slam into concrete, feeling at least a rib or two threaten to break under the pressure. Breaths stutter as he holds on, gripping the ledge after missing the chains and hearing the car crash onto the ground below with the chains rattling, slamming into the dusty ground with a final thud.

Everything is still. Izaya forces himself to heave his weight up, noticing the red imprints from his hands catching on concrete and gets an idea to smear them before climbing up carefully, ducking under chains and then lying on his back in the shadows to catch his struggling breath.

And now he waits for Shizu-chan's reaction. The beast can think he can kill him so easily, ha. If he could laugh now he would be cackling and trying hard not to make a sound, but only a wheeze comes from him when he notices that the red smears would only add to the effect of the reality of Izaya falling with the car.

Then the footsteps come. Fast and sliding to a stop, crunching glass that screeches when Shizuo stops to look over the missing rail to the wreckage below.

"Izaya!" He may not be able to admit, but the sound of his name from Shizu-chan does make a shudder tremble in between his shoulders. The sort of pained, animalistic sound of a beast realizing what exactly he's done.

"Fuck, Izaya!" By now he must have noticed the bloody smears, Izaya chuckles quietly to himself. But it's not as funny when his world threatens to blur and blacken, suddenly feeling lightheaded and that cold oil spill he's been sitting in is leaking into his torn jacket. "Izaya!" Another icy chill down his spine for some reason, how strange.

Shizuo leaps over the edge, swinging down and onto the floor where Izaya is and the gig is up while Izaya holds his breath as Shizuo catches himself, stepping down to stare at the hand prints like a beast in awe. Curses flow from his mouth, quiet and not like the usual yelling tirade he throws whenever something pisses him off (usually Izaya, of course) and he can't help himself.

Over the beast's right wrist, Izaya can woozily see one cuff still attached as the other dangles freely, reminiscent of playing his little game of "just wanting to see what would happen" if he managed to have a free pair of handcuffs lying around and wanted to test if the beast could get out of them.

It's not what makes him mad. No, much simpler than that. As simple as watching the beast stare, blackening vision making it harder to see how angry or upset he is and just as he tries to lift his head it falls with a thud, alerting Shizuo to his presence just as holding his breath is not an option.

For a moment, he thinks he sees something wet in Shizuo's eyes. Until he passes out, feeling blood leak from yet another place when his head lolls before sitting on the bare concrete floor.

No, probably just a trick of light.

* * *

Coming to always has drawbacks. Like the first pangs of a headache, feeling his ribs poke into his lungs with the generalized feel of aching all over. From the sounds that slowly start to seep into his ears he can tell he's not outside, even with the soft curses that come now and then if he listens a little closer.

Shizu-chan must be there. From the feel of being in sturdy arms, more with his head in a familiar lap and the feel of an uncomfortable couch beneath him. So Shizu-chan must have found him, then, and brought him all the way back to his apartment.

"Shizu-chan...?" Stupid how his voice cracks, blinking several times just to get his eyes somewhat open while the beast's hands wrap around him a little tighter, careful not to squish his organs even if fully capable.

"Fucking _idiot,_" Shizuo breathes, fingers caressing the skin of Izaya's forehead and pulling through his hair, though he doesn't look as angry as he sounds. "Scared the shit out of me when you fell like that and fucking bled all over the place." Scared? That doesn't sound like a beast at all. Not even a knuckle-dragging idiot.

And then he hears the rattle of handcuffs and has to contain the smirk as his head starts to ache, knowing that if he tries to turn his head he'll probably see the silver of handcuffs and also more bursts of light in his eyes. "Scared? How stupid, Shizu-chan. I'm just fine, ne?" Raising an arm just to prove himself right (a little boost to his ego never hurt anyone) his fingers brush against Shizuo's face, catching the stare where Shizu-chan looks torn between wanting to kill him and those other less-interesting options of emotions that are there.

"I hate how you can turn me into a fucking wreck." Shizu-chan hisses, sighing heavily but his fingers never stop massaging Izaya's scalp. "Over your stupid fucking ego trip to steal my pudding. The last one, you fucking flea." Only Shizu-chan can get so angry over a cup of pudding. To which there's no point in reminding him that he can always go buy more.

"Not my fault Shizu-chan is so barbaric." Izaya snorts quietly, fingers slithering into blond hair. Shizuo dips down, moving Izaya enough to brush their lips in an undemanding caress, maintaining it for the purpose of it feeling better after a fight. Being this sore, it's better than any other alternatives.

As the kiss continues on Izaya doesn't mind at all if Shizu-chan decides to suck on his lower lip, distracting him entirely from his headache.

_Click._

And _that, _to which Izaya realizes is his left wrist caught in the other link of the handcuffs, warped so that normal picking methods wouldn't save him at all. Ah, and that smirk that shouldn't belong on Shizu-chan's face.

Leaning back down again after parting moments earlier, Shizuo's breaths ghost against his ear. "This is what happens when you fuck around, louse."

Izaya snorts, rolling his eyes before Shizuo kisses him again.

* * *

_I am currently working on a large project for Durarara! called May Madness, so stay tuned for that while I deal with so much work to do, sigh. I may be a little absent in the following weeks, but by the last week of May I'll be good to write as often as I please._

_Also! Roxy, or Roksiel as she's known as, drew me fanart for chapter twelve of My Love where Shizu-chan wears Izaya's jacket. Go check it out on deviantART and tell her how awesome she is, because that was quite the unexpected but wonderful surprise. Her dA name is the same, so go on, shoo!_

_Thank you for reading._


	19. Habits

Their lips mold together seamlessly, months of practice gathering up to a bundle of a year, still with the awkward placement of unsteady fingers and mouthing silence. Izaya likes the taste of Shizu-chan to be unhindered and willing, thrusting into his mouth when he wants and tasting of a monster with that final sweet taste from too many sweets and pissing Izaya off. When kisses come and go like seconds it's easier to forget the passage of time and how deep he's been—falling—entrenched in this sort of business.

To be honest, it is horrifying. Sleeping with the enemy, forcing to face the facts and admit that he can't help but think about every single time Shizuo doesn't touch his hand (which rarely happens, he knows Shizuo has a craving for touch) and what is worse is how bad this affliction has continued, making every day a question with no answer attached at the end. Maybe ending in a bout of slow, passionate sex or Shizu-chan holding onto him like a bear. Sometimes the other way around (no, no, never _mind__) _and Shizu-chan only complains when Izaya tries to think this is some sort of game.

In a way, it is. A game of pretending and playing and realizing that he's falling—fast enough to consider the possibilities of how this situation plays out and if he ends up somewhere then it's going to be an interesting predicament. Shizuo never stops to think—stupid neanderthal, of course not. Simple, just like him and never realizing how grave the situation is when Izaya studies it from all angles except _one _which he will never consider. Never. Shizuo would never understand and that is what it makes it okay to obsess over.

"Izaya," Shizuo breathes against the shell of his ear, after one dinner and before the night's activities of such boring domesticity it could be frightening. Uncomfortable, to say in the least. "What're you thinking about?" Hands and fingers come over his wrists, one body pressing up against his back and a nose in his hair, breathing the same air closing in tight around one informant.

Odd for Shizu-chan to ask. "Nothing, Shizu-chan." Shizuo knows whenever Izaya lies and he won't buy this one but by the tone of quiet frustration in Izaya's voice he can hope Shizuo gets the clue. There are simply too many things to voice, too many things he wants to say and the ones he wants to explore and shuffle and file until everything is nice and neat and makes _sense._

"S'not 'nothing', don't bullshit me." Shizuo's nose nuzzles into his throat, warm skin colliding with cold and the ghost of a breath over the nape of his neck. "C'mon, I know you're always thinking." He doesn't press any further, strange for a beast and over this amount of time it could be normal. They could be normal, some strange couple and normality doesn't apply too well but the game changes, Izaya finds, when there are added manipulated variables into tripping over his own words.

"Don't bother trying to think, Shizu-chan. You know that it will only fry your brain cell." Izaya replies a little breathless, reminding himself that he's in control and that he shouldn't sound this unsure of something he supposedly knows everything about. Human love, of course, but for now, no. Not possible not ever going to happen.

Shizuo growls, hands going from Izaya's wrists to wrap around him and pull him closer than already possible. Not like the distance is any smaller, but Izaya can clearly feel the rise and fall of Shizu-chan's chest against his back.

And then there's the vague hope (of all things) that Shizu-chan doesn't hear his heart—_pounding—_thudding a little louder in his chest.

But hope doesn't work for a devil like that. Izaya may as well consider himself the god of all gods if anyone dares to try and surpass him but like this he can feel one hand climbing up his chest and rubbing over his throat. A swallow isn't what he means to do but he can hear the laugh in his ear, fingers pushing his chin gently to the side and he knows what this means and his brain can't help but keep thinking in explosive sparks of data.

Shizu-chan tastes like green tea after stealing Izaya's cup earlier, more kisses down his throat then and now is a simple press of lips, fitting together because they've done this so many times before Izaya loses count when he tries to even think. It's unfair how their lips slide and lock and Shizu-chan can taste better than the normal sweets, better all the way to the buzz from Izaya's lips of static to his head and something hard in his throat.

Hands tighten into his shirt. Izaya doesn't think he can breathe—not with the comfort of this, not with being held so tightly it's going to hurt when Shizu-chan has to let go and _when _do these thoughts start forming in his head so rapidly—even kisses like this, slow and sweet and still bitter with so much frustration.

Shizu-chan's tongue traces his bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth with ease and Izaya can't stand the kiss deepening, not when his head feels light and his hands start to shake (Shizuo isn't supposed to see this reaction of things happening without Izaya's permission) and Shizu-chan likes close but that means closer guarantees knowing.

"Sh-Shizu—" Izaya tries to pull away, Shizuo growls like the beast he is and tries to force him back into another kiss that makes him just as dizzy, just as likely to screw up and say what is burning on his tongue so tight and coiling low into his stomach. "Stop, Shizu-chan," breathless and his throat tightens because the stupid beast is not _listening _to the sound of Izaya's ribs cracking from how fast his heart is pumping.

And he can't take the pressure starting to build ready to explode and take him over, not with those lips on his jaw and fingers kneading into his sides.

"Stop!"

Too many questions, too many excuses and they all die on Izaya's tongue when Shizuo pulls away, something unreadable on his face when his lips fall open, about to say something Izaya can't answer before he turns around in Shizu-chan's grasp. Just to see what happens, he tells himself only this because the other reasons aren't ones he'd rather hear.

Shizu-chan swallows, lips sealing tight thinking of something that's going to be annoying to talk himself out of Izaya can't understand how this protozoan doesn't get the hint to stop talking. And he doesn't, surprisingly, but he still opens his mouth and his hands are still on Izaya's sides, as if testing the waters that have become electrified.

"You okay?" Fine. Perfectly absolutely most assuredly fine—so don't ask. Don't ask and he won't have to say why his throat burns and why getting comfortable in a small shitty apartment makes all the sense in the world except for why he's not—no, it's not that.

"Fine," in a crisp voice that sounds tight and squishing itself inside something small and pathetic. He can only imagine the look on his face now when he averts his eyes and a trademark smirk comes to his lips, more in a crawl as it spreads.

Shizu-chan doesn't ask any more. When he murmurs something akin to an apology and leaves to use the bathroom, Izaya can slump against the counter and count the mistakes he's made this far.

It can't be this. It can't be the burn and the ache and the normality that is so horrifying as it is disgusting. Sickening to think of when his heart slams against his ribs and Shizu-chan isn't even trying to turn him on.

Just a side effect of being in a relationship. Something that's just tacked on to make anything a little better and not actually meant to stay for long.

It's not love.

It can't be.

* * *

_More updates will be coming and I must say I'm not surprised no one missed me, hahaha. Must have been terribly boring without me, ne? _

_Thank you for reading._


	20. Insecurities

His heart starts to ache in his chest. It's only been a week and Izaya prefers to keep himself busy when in questioning his _relationship_—the word tastes sour and salty and sweet on his tongue grinding into his teeth—with Shizu-chan and none the wiser is Shizuo for leaving him be with the quiet promise of _we need to talk _and then the inevitable comes.

Being with a monster has its benefits. Ones that he won't name because they're not really benefits besides having someone to listen to his rants and maybe calling him on his bullshit isn't always fun but the reactions Shizuo has are worthwhile. Fingers in his and kisses sweet and soft are strange things, not quite benefits not quite hateful things in not deciding the territory where these things belong. They're not _bad, _per say, but the squeezing fullness that starts to leak into his chest from his brain pressured tight in his skull makes it hard to think anymore.

His bed does not know the meaning of empty. Neither do his arms or the sound asleep parts of his brain after another fitful night of sleep waking up to cold and slithering his hands under blankets between his legs to get warm when there is no human-sized heater in the form of a beast.

These _insecurities _are only temporary. Soon enough he'll have an answer for Shizu-chan, whether or not the protozoan likes it he won't necessarily care as long as Shizu-chan can pretend not to notice how frustrating this is. After all, he is Izaya Orihara, and he knows how to solve issues that look and feel impossible. It's his job, his calling and something he's not just good at but he is the _only _one who can do it right.

So admitting that after one week he doesn't want to deal with Shizu-chan is only a temporary thing. Just something out of the blue, not in the mood to discuss why there are bags under his eyes not always from insomnia but insecurities lining up to take the dive and fall shortly enough before his fingers will wipe them away. The little aspects of a relationship sometimes catch up to Izaya when he doesn't prepare for them and therefore his mind becomes turmoil and the twisting tumultuous decisions of make or break or give up everything because he—can't can't can't do this—doesn't like to try.

And it works perfectly, maintaining the entire attitude of nothing is wrong and everything is just as it's supposed to be. Until Shizu-chan decides one week is plenty of time and he has impeccably bad timing.

"Flea!" Sharp raps on the door, stirring Izaya from his place on the sofa, covered in a heavy blanket that doesn't smell like Shizu-chan for once but smells like nothing at all. Sterile, clean thoughts starting to leak into his head and his eyes are heavy—now is just no time to have this kind of conversation. "Open the door, Izaya, we need to talk." He's serious about this and so is Izaya (having given hour upon hour of thought to what he's supposed to say when his tongue curls and burns from the thought of having to voice what isn't an insult) in which he can't get his feet to unwind from the knot of limbs only Izaya is capable of making.

"Now!" No pounding, no shouting. Just Shizu-chan being far too up close and personal and Izaya would rather have the day off, thank you very much. "What's been going on, Izaya? You've been acting strange."

Izaya shakes his head, frustrated with the lack of thoughts but repeats of uglier ones slapping across his eyes, rooting him beneath the false protective hold of a heavy blanket. Even his voice doesn't feel like talking when he realizes that under a blanket he can pretend the stupid little identity crisis isn't happening to him. Lesser men should be afflicted; Izaya Orihara does not hide under blankets.

And then the door clicks open in the moment that Izaya realizes he's forgotten to lock his front door. If his absent-mindedness is so bad then truly he's not Izaya Orihara today and therefore Shizu-chan can leave, because this is not the man he is looking for with the heavy steps on the ground and not bothering to take off his shoes. Pest.

"Oi," Shizuo comes up to him, Izaya can feel it like the lump in his throat of trying to _keep it down _for the past hour and all waking moments have been plagued with not feeling like anyone or wanting to in particular. His eyes still burn from this morning and there is no cause for concern when in the shower his eyes water from the—_steam—_there's nothing wrong with him.

Just a seasonal bout of having no idea what he's gotten himself in to.

The sofa creaks with the addition of Shizuo's weight and Izaya draws his knees tighter against his chest, draped in blanket entirely. The outside must look so amusing to the beast, questioning who and what has happened to Izaya. The Izaya _he _knows and the Izaya _he's _in a relationship with. Too bad that there are multiple sides to one person, right?

"Go 'way, Shizu-chan." Izaya sighs with a huff, sounding even worse than he feels and much less looks. He must be a terrible mess of unruly hair and red cheeks and lips from bad habits of biting and his eyes are red and sore from trying to keep himself contained into the suave informant he is. Falling apart over one week after aching relations means trying to keep his dignity intact. Or whatever of it is left.

"What did I do, flea?" Shizuo asks, blanket folding under the dip of his hand finding Izaya's foot, not daring to rise it any higher and _this _is what Izaya (hates so much how he can be so easily moved as to act like something he's not toward _him _nonetheless) doesn't want to deal with right now. "You gotta tell me what happened. Or I can't help."

"I don't need your help." Izaya spits back, curling up tighter into himself so Shizu-chan and his stupid touches can't affect him through a blanket.

"Maybe you don't," Shizuo replies easily enough, fingers curling into the blanket. "But I need it. _We_ need it. You've been avoiding me for a week and you won't even talk to me." Boyfriends and lovers and partners and all the things Izaya has never heard of having for a god such as himself these things don't apply because he's never been human enough to think of them for himself.

"Not right now." Izaya shakes his head, denies everything and anything to do with Shizuo and ending up in a state of blanket warfare with Shizuo so close he can feel the warmth coming from the beast and hates how he chews on his abused lower lip in anxious frustration. Then a shudder starts at the base of his neck, trembling down his spine and Shizuo obviously sees even if Izaya tries to muffle it with more and more blanket but there is a limit to how far he can pretend when Shizu-chan is there.

A sigh. Quiet, rough, and nothing Izaya wants to hear. "We don't have to talk about it then. Just..." Izaya knows Shizuo's habits and he knows that a hand runs through bleached hair with every repetition of stress starting to build up and it's all his—"Let me see you. I missed you."

And he hates how brutally honest Shizu-chan is, too. Hates it with a seething rage that grinds his teeth and makes his eyes burn brighter and hotter than before. But no reply, no sarcastic insult set to injure and maim comes to his tongue or lips or anywhere close to his mind but the foreign feeling of being too numb to care if Shizuo sighs again after moments turn into minutes. Maybe he'll never be sure of what he's doing in these sorts of situations and really there isn't any time to think when Shizuo's arms are around him and suddenly all of his blanket mass is in Shizuo's lap and his head is over Shizuo's shoulder.

He should fight it. He should get up and demand Shizuo to leave. And then there's that war in his thoughts that means yes, no, maybe, _I don't know _and even if Shizuo says it's fine the beast doesn't know anything at all. But when he first starts to wriggle his way out there is an arm around him and a chin on the top of his head.

Trapped. "Stay here." Shizuo's voice is much quieter and Izaya remembers vaguely in the time of trying not to pay attention to now that the front door is closed but he doesn't remember hearing it slam. "Please." So quiet and needy and so unlike Shizu-chan Izaya can't help but snort but another sound comes from him, something humiliating he'd rather never speak of it again because a snort should never become something that sounds like choking over words that refuse to move from his throat and make Shizuo hold onto him tighter.

Relationships feel like insecurities to him. Too many to let them come to light.

* * *

_So Mama Shizuwan (PendulumDeath) challenged me to do something I hate or something that is my weakness in writing. Well, Mama, one of them Izaya crying Use that information as you will, ne, and if you use it against me..._

_As for today, this is just a short little thing in the middle of writing six other stories at the same time. Yes, you read that correctly. Aren't I so kind._

_Thank you for reading._


	21. Magnitude

Migraines are horrible, awful, dreadfully uncreative ways of torturing one without the use of physical means. Seeing as it does well to keep one bedridden for however long it decides to take its time, then perhaps Izaya can find new meanings to why bed rest is so popular for those with less intelligence than he possesses.

And the problem here is that the damn thing will _not _go away, no matter what he tries and no matter how much work he needs to catch up on and all the things that are considered as not typically appreciated when Izaya has the capability to function. Seeing as how a migraine has currently degraded him into a life form consistently failing to perform protozoan tasks, then perhaps its original intention of destroying everything has succeeded. Far too well, in his aching, frustratingly blank opinion.

Shizu-chan of all people, of all idiots or beasts or protozoans, does not and will not ever have any sort of helpful influence. After all, the first thing he does is make noise when he lets himself into Izaya's apartment without a care for any decency, not that the beast would have a shred of it in the first place. Why Izaya would care about decency has to do with a pounding, pulsing headache and the fact he can't see anything at all sometimes and if he stands up, then he finds himself a bit too close for comfort with the floor. That, and if he forgets the constant string of nausea rising with green waves of envy enough to make seasickness or his _strong _dislike of dead fish eyes seem amiable. Anything could possibly be better than clutching a toilet at two or three or maybe even four in the morning and draining the contents of what little is left in his stomach.

Shizu-chan and his impossibly loud footsteps, bare feet by the sound of _wet meat _slapping against his hardwood flooring as he dawdles around in the kitchen, raiding it of all food items—Izaya won't need them anyway, not when he feels like sleeping for an eternity. An entirely unproductive eternity of boredom and if it makes the migraine go away, then he may as well consider it seriously.

Under the thundering noise of Shizuo clomping his way through Izaya's apartment the informant will have to reconsider his life insurance policy, possibly Shizu-chan's if he doesn't stop slamming refrigerator and cabinet doors. The last time Izaya checked, his apartment is nowhere near the state of a petting zoo, or a barn. Therefore a beast inside of it wouldn't make any sense and logic would surely dictate such, but as of late, logic hasn't had much of a say in anything pertaining to blond beasts and stupid brutish smiles when he shouldn't be so _happy _to hold Izaya's hand in public.

At night. Where no one is even watching.

And that is Shizu-chan confined in a tiny, tiny, pea-sized nutshell. It more closely resembles the size of his brain and its one brain cell.

Izaya groans, rolling over in bed as much as possible, which doesn't get him very far considering the wave of vertigo that strikes without mercy and sleep has a much more desirable appeal than ever before. Sometimes when he doesn't sleep for days it has that pulling affect, but now it's downright alluring. Intoxicating to think of something to keep him from feeling the frying of one half of his brain, keeping the room spinning and his ears pounding when it's dark and Shizu-chan is probably wondering where he is.

Speak of the devil and he pounds on the bedroom door with one of those stupid fists of his. Always smashing his way into things. "Oi, flea, what the fuck are you doing in bed. It's not even seven." No, it's not, but it feels like it should be. Shizu-chan has no respect for the ill such as Izaya and he can bet that the idiot will open the door, meaning he should probably say something first to avoid the inevitable. Such does not happen whenever Shizu-chan is involved and determined enough to prove himself as an idiot.

"Flea, answer me for once." Shizuo scoffs, sounding horribly put off and Izaya has an insult or two to shoot right back at him, except he isn't normally this prone to letting his tongue fly loose. It's probably best that he doesn't, or he'll only exacerbate the pounding in his skull and Shizu-chan is really just too loud. The door clicks open, no knocks to shatter Izaya's breaking eardrums and there won't be any salvation for a monstrous god, now facing his own brand of irony.

"You in here?" Izaya groans an affirmative, negative, _whatever. _Too tired to care all that much and even less consideration for when Shizuo's voice softens and he doesn't have to see the confused look on the idiot's face. Even when he scrunches his eyes shut and pretends to not hear anything sleep won't so much as give him the time of day, considering him far less important than the misery inside of his head.

Feet pad over to the window—a deadly mistake, there's no time to warn him to what could happen if he does and the idiot—and with a click the blinds are opening and Izaya hisses when the immediate response of one pillow thrown at Shizu-chan and one pillow covering his eyes becomes a knee-jerk reaction.

"Could you _not?_" Izaya growls, waiting for his forgotten pillow to be thrown back at him as his headache decides to intensify its magnitude, planning on total collapse and destruction of his brain and all information networks that rest there. Shizuo doesn't seem to get the hint, at a loss for words when Izaya does look quite pathetic—never mind _that _for once—curled up in blankets and his boyfriend's _borrowed _(stolen) shirt as the only things to keep him from committing deicide.

Seeing as Shizuo doesn't have a grasp on basic Japanese, Izaya's tongue declares a rebellion in favor of ignoring his aching mind and its damned self-control.

"It doesn't take a fucking _wizard_ to figure out how to close the blinds." Finally some relief as what could be a curse and a few choice insults come from either him or Shizuo, it's hard to say, but the blinds click shut and darkness falls in the room again. Nothing can save him from the increased throbbing in his skull, ringing heavily into his ears and beyond the point of being able to manage much more than petty insults.

"You look like absolute shit." What a wonderful, accurate, and thoughtful analysis of the situation. Really, a gold star or whatever to the idiot who figures it out—and now is the time where Izaya decides his sense of humor is quite rotten when he's sleep deprived and angry at the rest of the world. "What's going on, flea?"

"It's called a migraine, Shizu-chan," he can't help the snarl that forms, never removing the pillow over his head but a larger, warmer hand does it for him. His eyes stay closed, in fear of opening them and facing vertigo and a hopeless fool who takes pride in seeing Izaya wear a stolen shirt of his. "Now you can get out and leave me alone. Come play with me when I'm not feeling my brain decompose inside of my skull."

A brush of lips against his forehead with the added weight to his bed mean that Shizuo's answer is non-negotiable. Just as Izaya wants to make an admittedly weak protest that Shizu-chan can't offer him anything to make him feel any better, the beast's arms come around him, carefully, and he pulls himself closer to Izaya. But as soon as he wants another kiss, probably somewhere perverted because he's a protozoan idiot, Izaya stops him with a hand over his mouth.

"No. I can hear you breathing and that's annoying enough. Shut up and let me sleep." Shizuo snorts quietly at this, having some decency now to let Izaya use him as a pillow and not care if the fingers that run through his hair feel good. Another too big and too warm hand grabs his under his pillow, thumb dragging over the bones of his fingers.

When it's quiet, Shizuo can hear the unspoken words Izaya just can't and won't bring himself to say. Sick or not, it doesn't matter anyway. They're enough all on their own.

_Feel better, _he replies, but when he looks for Izaya's frustration to come hurling back at him, he finds his boyfriend asleep.

Fingers tighten in his.

Definitely more than enough.

* * *

_I've been having a migraine for the past week and a half and I want to die. So shh, because it's not gone yet and I need to write so let me write and someone please get me painkillers. I know, not usually polite but right now I'm on the verge of deicide, much like Izaya is. Please be patient with my stories, I can only write so much when I can't even read the screen most of the time._

_Thank you for reading._


	22. Feel Me

Disappearing isn't typically his habit. No, it belongs more to the damn flea—more than ever having to admit that there's something _wrong _and he's not too happy about having to explain it, especially to himself. But when the flea says he's fine and clearly he's not it makes Shizuo have doubts that don't go away within some reassurance from himself that Izaya will talk when he wants to. But when Izaya doesn't say or do much of anything, how is he supposed to know?

Their relationship so far hasn't been bad. In its early stages, if early counts as nine months and they're still tentative about the things they don't talk about. One of them being how they're supposed to maintain a relationship, what if Shizuo—no, no, that'll only make it worse. The same kind of self-doubt that lingers far too long and he can't just ask Izaya when he needs an answer he's meant to trust (with Izaya, that has been hard enough) because his mental reasoning isn't one he's all that confident in.

Izaya starts to notice. Shizuo knows this because the flea sometimes asks questions out of the blue, even in the middle of a kiss just because he can and their relationship is versatile and strange enough where there really isn't a norm except for Shizuo's requirements of humiliating the shit out of the flea when he catches him off guard, which is hilarious. Izaya may not share the same sentiment—damn him anyway—but he's perceptive when he wants to be. Which causes problems when Shizuo finds himself staring at reflection a little longer than usual and coming up with questions that he doesn't have the answer to.

Being this comfortable is—scary. There's no point in sugarcoating it and pretending everything is fine, not when Izaya is with him and he's at his best of holding onto himself so nothing slips through. He does enjoy the time with Izaya, hates it when he has to go back to pretending that they're nothing out in the streets and the best part of his days are coming back to his apartment or Izaya's and kisses are much more easily given and taken when no one can see. It's fine the way it is, comfortable to the point of suffocating every last point of knowing himself and knowing that if he doesn't control himself, then there's bound to be a mistake leading up to more and he can't just—think.

It's hard to (realize that he's still a monster, even if Izaya says it in spite and gives kisses that can be rough or sweet that don't feel right when he doesn't deserve them) focus on his time with Izaya, what he's starting to realize in a week or three of starting to feel a little distant. And by the time he does Izaya probably notices his weird behaviors and the bastard probably doesn't think anything of it.

So when Izaya comes over, unexpectedly to say the least, Shizuo finds himself at a loss for what to say when he's been thinking and reminding himself over and over that maybe this relationship isn't good enough for Izaya. Especially with how picky he is and Shizuo is prone to breaking things and Izaya is standing in his doorway, looking expectant for something Shizuo doesn't have.

"Are you going to let me in, Shizu-chan?" This is how arguments start—_don't _say it and just try not to stare, when he finds himself going silent and knowing Izaya won't leave until he gets what he wants. Stepping aside he thinks he sees Izaya's expression of surprise and stepping inside, red eyes on him and Shizuo finds himself grossly unprepared for what may or may not happen.

He hopes Izaya won't ask. He doubts it will, but if he _does..._

"What's going on, Shizu-chan?" It stings, almost a little much when Izaya crosses his arms and Shizuo realizes he's been standing in the doorway, staring at the wall for more than just a moment. No, make it a couple minutes and Izaya has been staring at him this entire time like he's an idiot. Which he is, Izaya already knows this and mentions it constantly. "You've been acting like an idiot more than usual. What did you do now?"

Heavy thoughts come and spite him, mocking insults as to imply he has the audacity to not sound like an idiot when he responds and doesn't sound like he gets tongue-tied. "Nothing, don't worry about it." With this he reminds himself Izaya is his boyfriend and he can close the door now because it's night and he doesn't need any more attention drawn to himself for being absent-minded and heavily considering what point there is for Izaya staying with him. Things like that have the tendency to pop up, from trying to sleep to showering and standing in icy cold spray realizing that Izaya could do much better if he tries.

Izaya doesn't like that answer, reasons unfathomable but his face is easy to read when he turns, arms unfolding as he moves closer and lips collide against Shizuo's as something rough that turns gentle. What the flea doesn't know is the knot that settles like guilt when Shizuo's hands come up and wrap around him, responding with minimum attention to the careful press of lips against his, questioning why he's been acting strange. As soon as Izaya breaks the kiss, however, Shizuo frowns long enough for him to raise an eyebrow and this could be the time where he decides he's had enough of second best for his inflated tastes.

"Shizu-chan," Izaya's gaze is harder to meet and keep now but the pest can be insistent with enough arrogance to get what he wants. "You've been avoiding me. And now you're an absent-minded ape instead of a stupid one—well, you have your moments." He shakes his head, grabbing Shizuo's hand with one of his own and Shizuo knows Izaya is only forward with things when he really wants something. "And you have this pathetic look on your face like I've kicked your puppy and set it on fire. What happened?" His voice softens, a little more as they reach the sofa and Izaya turns, pushing Shizuo back and for all of Shizuo's best efforts, he still can't pull himself out of his head.

"It's nothing, just busy lately," he narrows his eyes as Izaya scoffs, pulling the flea down with him in retaliation and hearing the intake of breath that sounds suspiciously like a hiss of (_pain) _annoyance when Izaya doesn't expect it or to land in Shizuo's lap. "Not like you ever want to come around, flea. You're busy with your shit." Which is true, Izaya knows this and it doesn't help that Izaya isn't satisfied yet. Picky damn flea.

Izaya sighs, shaking his head and squirming so he can straddle Shizuo easily, one hand slithering into Shizuo's hair and massaging the nape of his neck. With the unexpected affection Shizuo frowns, confused with Izaya's forwardness and only to remind himself that the flea can be unpredictable too, just not for when he doesn't understand why. "Let me know when you're going to stop pretending, Shizu-chan. I can see right through you and it's pathetic that you think I'd fall for not noticing you've been avoiding _everything._" He sounds harsher now, but his arms are around Shizuo and Shizuo hasn't realized that he's still frowning and his head is starting to burst with too many thoughts.

"Flea, it's—"

"_Don't_. Don't think, just listen for once." Izaya's lips come close, brushing against Shizuo's once, twice, and then the hand in his hair tugs lightly. "If you don't want to say it, then I'll wait." There is no mischievous glint in his eyes, no intention on his face written into making fun of him (and really he does it enough himself) and it should be okay if he pulls Izaya close, breathing in the reek of the shitty flea and Izaya letting him hold him as long as he wants. They stay like this, for longer than Shizuo cares to account for and as long as Izaya doesn't complain he can forget the insults slamming against his skull when they want to plague him now.

"Thanks," Shizuo offers awkwardly, removing himself a little from Izaya's shoulder and he can't help but think of how easily he could break Izaya, snap his bones with so much as the embrace he has Izaya in and maybe he shouldn't be—

"Stupid Shizu-chan," Izaya murmurs cryptically, bending down while he tips Shizuo's chin up, unusually dominant when he steals another kiss, this time not letting Shizuo pull away when he thinks it's enough. It's not enough until Izaya says it is, which can be whenever. The hand in his hair moves down, resting at the nape of his neck before coming to the top again and Shizuo has the urge to remark that he's not a dog but decides against it.

He almost wonders if the words mouthed against his lips are something like an insult, tasting them carefully and when he doesn't get it the first time around, they come again before Izaya's tongue dips into his mouth, ending the conversation.

But he hears _I'm here _and it's_ okay _to tighten his arms around the stupid flea.

* * *

_Another update today, just an idea I had in mind. And with needing some Izuo, why not? Poor Shizu-chan, so insecure at times. If anyone wants to write Izuo to make me feel better from this migraine, please do.  
_

_Thank you for reading._


	23. Kiss and Make Up

It starts with an innocent peck on the nose. Something to deter Shizuo from arguing that their date isn't over and so what if it is the first of a couple they've been on. A handful, really, for dates they have been on and Izaya has been surprisingly Izaya—wait, no, that's not surprising. What Shizuo starts to consider is that Izaya may be having second thoughts after each date and he just wants to talk and set the record straight, but it doesn't always translate.

Izaya settles the argument with a kiss to the nose. As if purposely missing Shizuo's lips, something they haven't done so often as the first date just to piss him off because Izaya says he doesn't kiss on the first date. Well now he does. And every date until Shizuo's mandate becomes routine and Izaya kisses Shizuo whether or not they're on a date. Starting new relationships has never been Shizuo's forte but Izaya seems a little too interested in other things besides talking about what should be said.

On Shizuo's end, it's a little more than confusing. Dealing with the flea, wanting to talk about any second thoughts he might have and as soon as he starts the argument Izaya isn't listening. So he shoos him out of his lavish apartment, saying Shizuo's making excuses to exacerbate things and monsters shouldn't try to think so hard. Which only sets Shizuo off, of course, but it ends and starts with lips on his nose and a goodnight which sounds pretty shitty to Shizuo.

But Izaya can't be let off that easily—no, that's not fair to end an argument and Shizuo doesn't care if he's not comfortable talking about it or whatever (maybe he just doesn't care) so his foot lands in the doorway and Izaya has a twisted look on his face mixing into a frown. Which is odd because Shizuo knows when Izaya looks disgusted and this isn't it.

"You can't just shut me out, flea," Shizuo snaps, pushing his way back inside and he knows he may be going too far, they're so early in a relationship that he hasn't even asked Izaya to be _his _yet. But he's got too many doubts he can't think straight and the kiss to the nose probably has more meaning when Izaya _never_ initiates anything. "We need to talk, so don't start this shit." And Izaya's already frowning at him, _stop _looking at him like that he isn't trying to be any more of a monster but he can't just pretend he's not thinking about it.

"Shizu-chan, why now?" Izaya sighs, leaning back against the wall as soon as the door shuts behind Shizuo and the snark is still in his voice, a trademark of his, and it doesn't help when it grates Shizuo's ears. "Do you just want to complain because you think I'm still playing with you?" He narrows his eyes, Shizuo already starting a glare and rolls them in spite. "You should know better by now, Shizu-chan. You're a monster, try not to be a knuckle-dragging ape."

A fist slams into the wall next to Izaya's head—he swore he'd never hit him, not like this—and the wall shivers but there are no cracks, no holes but certainly no patience left. "What the hell!? Are you making this a game, stupid flea? What the fuck am I even doing when you're still the same bastard!" And then he's lost and it's best just to leave now because it's clear by the disappointed look in Izaya's eyes that the argument is only going to be one involving violence and making himself seem like more of an idiot that Izaya taunts him to be. Under his fingers the doorknob bends and snaps when he forces it open, not caring that Izaya hits the wall because he's moved too fast and he's making the same mistakes _again _he's not sorry, he's not sorry, he didn't mean it—

"_Shizuo." _One hand on his wrist with one foot out the door, tight and white-knuckled but it doesn't feel like anything more than a hand resting over his. He doesn't turn back, doesn't look at what he's doing and what he's done because he's too angry to feel any more than disgusted in himself. "Don't start this pity party of yours. _Look _at me." Izaya's voice comes through his teeth, hissing while his fingers tighten and they may leave marks for about a second or two but plenty in flashing warning signs that are his eyes burning into Shizuo's head. They always do, always there no matter if they're open or closed and Izaya is so close it's unreal to feel something other than self-hatred.

"Tch, don't even bother, louse. I'm leaving, so fuck off already." Shizuo tugs his wrist free but it doesn't stay that way for long because Izaya is insistent and his foot is in the doorway and his hand is tight around Shizuo's wrist with a dangerous look of not letting Shizuo have his own way. Fine, be that way. He just wants a chance to gloat because he thinks it's _funny, _when all Shizuo can think about is that Izaya's only playing him and Izaya can find someone much better even if he is a bastard and Shizuo can't—fucking damn it.

"Your argument is fucking ridiculous. Stop being an idiot, you devolved protozoan." Izaya's lips curve into something, not that Shizuo's paying attention because in the next moment before any thoughts come to mind and he fucks everything up there are lips on his, moving already and in caressing motions that shouldn't feel so addicting, but they are. Izaya keeps moving, coaxing him to respond and his anger is clouding over his thoughts until an arm comes around him, hand diving into his hair while the other remains around his wrist.

It doesn't go much further, since they've only been dating for so long but Shizuo thinks it's odd, feeling the anger in his veins drain slowly as Izaya keeps the slow and soft, not usual to what Shizuo would think he would give—rough, biting kisses with little to no thought. Cold and stingy, yet this is the complete opposite. It's almost like—

"Shizu-chan, stop _thinking _for once." Izaya smirks at his own joke, but he keeps his lips over Shizuo's in incessant kisses that are longer than pecks and much more demanding than them. "You're being stupid, don't even say it. It's stupid to fight over what isn't an issue." And it's the closest, Shizuo figures, he's going to get to any sort of compassion or whatever the hell it is, along with the kisses that keep coming and he's never thought of Izaya to be affectionate.

When he kisses back, however, he finds that Izaya is much more eager to receive kisses too. It's not fully enough for soothing the stinging in his thoughts but he'll settle for now, seeing as Izaya doesn't care to start something and maybe he can fool himself into thinking that the flea is right—something which he doesn't necessarily consider all that often because admitting he's right is only making it worse for himself.

"Iza—" Izaya's lips cover his, too soft and too _not _Izaya to make any sense. They're not unwelcome, per say, because Shizuo likes these kisses and there will come a time in the next weeks to months that he realizes Izaya likes kisses. _Really _likes them. And they're some sort of thing to fix whatever and maybe it's because he's bad with direct confrontation. Sneaky bastard.

"Shizu-chan," the flea stops him, eyes cracking open to catch Shizuo's and his lips offer a strange sort of smile, not one of malice but of amusement. "Don't make up stupid things. You'll fry your brain cell." And then lips are back on his, breaking off to trail down his jaw and then back when Shizuo starts realizing the implications of his words.

For now, it's best not to interrupt when Izaya demands the kisses—especially when he gets impatient waiting for Shizuo to _hurry up _and start kissing him back.

* * *

_Aw, Izaya you little shit. Well, since this is Izuo and Shizaya, everyone wins?_

_Thank you for reading._


	24. Temptations

"...What are you doing?" A perfect way to start an early morning, Izaya draping off of him like he's not noticing that it's a bit awkward to wrap his arms around Shizuo's throat while the blond tries to get out of bed. What may be worse is that Izaya doesn't even _look _awake, head slipping against a shoulder used as a pillow and soft breaths coming from him.

Well then. Better to find out than forget he has to go to work early today. "Oi, flea, get off of me. Bed's right here." Shizuo moves to gently pry the entangled fingers slipping over his collarbone, finding it to be a bad decision as soon as Izaya becomes a Chinese finger trap and Shizuo's hand becomes ensnared in the skinny fingers linked at his chest.

"Flea," he tries again, huffing as he pulls at his hand somehow trapped in Izaya's, tight and more than tempted to shove Izaya off of him. He's got work early today since it's the holiday season and Izaya making him want to stay in bed isn't good for coming home early. "Get off of me. I have to get dressed and go to work today, unlike _some _parasites I know." And he'll shake his hand in Izaya's, only feeling a slight reflexive twitch as Izaya readjusts his head, murmuring sleepily and now Shizuo is not only trapped, but even less motivated to go to work today.

Izaya doesn't seem to mind, absorbing warmth from Shizuo because he's always cold, most of the blankets piled over him and he's still freezing to the touch until Shizuo has to practically hold him in his arms until he warms up a little. They've always been opposites, something Izaya has no problem in taking advantage of when his feet are freezing and he's a bastard who likes to piss Shizuo off when he doesn't think socks are for bed. They are if he's going to stay in Shizuo's.

The blond glances in annoyance at his bedside table and the clock sitting there, informing him he still has half an hour to get to work. Above it is a dark blue koi fish made of origami paper, something from a while back and it's still in perfect condition. Maybe a little worn from where Shizuo traces the eyes with his finger when Izaya's not around or can't make fun of him, but so far Izaya hasn't noticed anything odd about keeping a folded fish on his alarm clock. It's not like he has to know, anyway.

And the flea has the nerve to grumble, sounding too stupidly cute and Shizuo has come to accept that some words pop into his head without invitation after being infected by the flea for so long. If he takes his other hand—possibly risking it—to carefully rub the heel of his palm into Izaya's wrists, maybe it'll loosen the tight grip on him when it's just not possible that Izaya's still sleeping.

It _is _cold outside. Really fricking cold and there's white stuff on the ground known as snow and he's come to learn that Izaya _really_ hates snow. It may also explain his reluctance to get off already.

"Izaya," Shizuo has to do it and it means pulling Izaya's hands apart, holding them in his own while his fingers curl into the gaps between his boyfriend's. "I have work. I'll be back early, just sleep all day if you're really that annoyed." White stuff on the ground makes Izaya cranky. Of course it does. 'Cause it's just as frigid as his shitty little attitude and the fact Izaya hates it when Shizuo won't just accommodate his needs. Possessive Chinese finger trap.

He moves to get up, sliding off the mattress and just sitting on the edge when Izaya falls, Shizuo forgetting that the flea may mostly be asleep when he hits the bed and the fingers in his are missing. Only now instead of a tired mumble Izaya's cracking an eye open when the weight on the bed shifts, Shizuo glancing at him from above. Despite his best efforts, it's even more difficult to have any energy to go to work when Izaya is completely naked, remainders of bite marks and a certain bruise under his ear close enough to his jaw that it's pretty visible from where Shizuo stands.

"Don't go," Izaya moans, curling tighter into the sheets before he shifts one red eye to Shizuo, drooping with a need for sleep. Honestly, this idiot. "It's Christmas Eve, you're not supposed to have work today." Some of what he says is muffled in the blankets and it's hard to look intimidating with a glare that's mostly covered by sheets.

Stupid adorable idiot.

Shizuo sighs, a hand through his hair and sure he's going to go prematurely gray at this point when Izaya makes everything much harder than it should ever be. "Can't help it. I said I'd be back early, didn't I?" And he has some semblance of Izaya's idea for a holiday tradition, so to speak, but it'll just have to wait. Not like he's enjoying having to go work his ass off in the cold either. "I'll be back later. And forget about what I said earlier, stop being a lazy ass and get out of my bed." Nothing deters him from leaning back down, gently pushing Izaya over just enough to steal a kiss, making it two or three and close to four before Izaya starts whining again.

Those hands of his are devilish when they want something. And as they hook themselves onto Shizuo's arms, he knows he's probably going to have a difficult time explaining to Tom-san why he's a little late. Izaya makes good use of what he can have, pulling himself up just enough to get the point across that he expects Shizuo to hold him up while he kisses him.

"I don't think you understand what I said, ne?" Izaya mumbles against his lips, eyes still tired but his lips drag over Shizuo's in a way that's definitely more awake than he looks. Even with the accent of a tongue slipping in, eager to have his fill of kisses—something Shizuo has also noticed, brat—while completely disregarding the fact Shizuo has to work.

Pah, like he cares.

"_Stay," _Izaya pulls himself up to Shizuo's ear, teeth nipping at the lobe and hot breath crumbling what little resistance he has left. His boyfriend is more than inviting, kissing his way back to Shizuo's jaw and he's only an affectionate little shit when he wants something.

_Especially _when Shizuo thinks he sees a change in the sheets, rising almost tantalizingly, with an invitation to not go freeze his ass off outside. Izaya acts like he knows it and doesn't, pretending to be coy just to have Shizuo kiss him back, taking his loving good time in stealing what he can get.

"Shit, Izaya..." it doesn't help that he's naked too, since he doesn't need clothes when his blankets are already warm. Not with Izaya's probing fingers, sliding down his chest and shit, this bastard has him hooked.

"Mmh," Izaya mumbles, pulling back just enough to have Shizuo follow, lips too far away when they should be moving on his instead of smirking like a lazy fat cat. He's hardly close to being fat, but he's still a smug little shit. And as he takes Shizuo's lips with one hand inching closer to his groin, rubbing circles in his skin, Shizuo thinks he'll have to come up with some excuse to explain _why _it's hard to say no to what he wants. Izaya happens to be much more than a Chinese finger trap, especially with that smirk of his gloating his victory in between hungry wet kisses and a heat-seeking tongue.

The moan that comes from Izaya, sounding oddly satisfied, confirms that he's doomed.

* * *

_It's been so long, I've almost forgotten how to write fluff. That's a terrible tragedy...not._

_Thank you for reading._


	25. Here Be Dragons

Izaya has strange tastes. It's probably too late to say it now, dating a monster and quite comfortably worming his way into everything the beast does, from invading his sheets to invading _him—_horrible puns come as a side effect to the things he does. Probably worth it by now, losing his sanity long enough to still be in his apartment and waiting up on the beast of Ikebukuro to hurry up and get out of his shower. No, it's not his fault that it's _snowing _on Christmas Eve. Shizu-chan should know his choices and the consequences of each.

At least _he _doesn't freeze his ass off, according to Shizu-chan.

The worst part about waiting on Shizu-chan to hurry up and shower is noticing, quite unhappily, that he's not allowed to join. As if being denied of an early round in between the sheets this morning isn't bad enough, the idiot has to go and force him to get out of his shower because _no, _he doesn't want to have when it's clearly offered to him. _Presented _to him with a very naked Izaya and he should be grateful Izaya even thinks of offering him such a rarity. Tch, too bad Shizuo is too dim to notice what he's missing.

He can sit and twirl around in his office chair for the rest of eternity, whatever. Waiting on Shizu-chan is more than frustrating. It's ridiculously cruel and unusual to keep him waiting when he's been needing a fix provided only by one monster. And if he tries to play a certain card again, he's sure that a vending machine won't be the only thing he finds in his bedroom. Clearly it goes to show that Shizu-chan shouldn't be so jealous, or cause arguments, but Izaya has to remind himself that Shizu-chan isn't exactly even close to the level of a human being. No, he's far below it.

Including some other parts of him as well.

Izaya sighs, hand cradling his chin and feeling decisively bored. Torn between getting up and getting himself something to eat or switching off the hot water to make a point, Izaya keeps himself seated, reminding himself that the champagne in the fridge has his name on it and he's going to make Shizu-chan drink at least a glass or two, since that's part of the stupid festivities Shizu-chan plans to engage in. Dressing up like Santa-san while at work is only entertaining when Izaya throws snowballs at him.

The sound of the water shutting off brings him back from his daydreams. Or anticipation of getting Shizu-chan's clothes off, since they're the same no matter how cold it is outside. This is why his apartment is so much nicer than the shabby one the beast has, since it has heated flooring that Shizu-chan still likes to test with his bare feet. Izaya never finds himself that amused with his boyfriend's antics.

"Yo," Shizuo's voice makes its way down the staircase, steps creaking and unsurprisingly, he's dressed in a pair of sweatpants with the appearance vaguely Christmas-themed, more so by wearing a sweatshirt with Santa-san's uniform printed on it. Well, it could be worse.

(Nothing is worse than the stupid green _dragon _hoodie he refuses to get rid of, either.)

"Ah, Shizu-chan," Izaya greets dryly, swallowing the dry burn of any libido heading far away from where it should be. Shizu-chan looks admittedly ridiculous in that getup, worse when he's hiding the features Izaya wants to see not covered in warm fabric. No, he doesn't necessarily care if it means Shizu-chan has to freeze. "Took long enough in my shower?"

Shizuo may notice he's a _little _bit annoyed. Or, in Shizuo's words, grumpy. Why wouldn't he be if being denied any sort of touch, even just a kiss or two when Shizuo's on his lunch break? It's just not fair to keep anything from Izaya, not when he's tired of waiting and Shizuo is always his first, so work will just have to come second to that.

And not feeding what he wants, it makes him more than simply unhappy. But the way Shizu-chan eyes him with a curious spark of interest as he approaches, it's almost unsettling for a reason Izaya can't seem to name. He does think it's almost funny enough to smirk at Shizuo's getup, a hint of a smile curving at the corner of his lips when he inwardly chortles in amusement, seeing how silly the blond looks. Just like him, as always, to be this stupidly childish.

Not that Izaya _minds, _per se, but the unnecessary amount of clothes is more than off putting. It's almost offensive.

"Don't see you freezing your ass off in the cold. Maybe you should try working for once." Shizuo comes up to the desk, strutting up with the walk of a beast all too confident in himself even if Izaya hisses and pushes himself away when Shizuo means to dip for a kiss. All he manages is to brush Izaya's cheek, holding his boyfriend's chin in his hand and maybe he'll start to have an inkling of how frustrating it is to be denied of what he wants. Even if Izaya's irritated because now his lips are buzzing with the loss of a kiss and no, he's not good at saying what he wants.

Shizu-chan obviously should know these things, and then he really shouldn't. A beast with a cocky mien, confused by the way Izaya keeps pushing himself away until he's slipped away, lips pressed into a hard thin line and eyes narrowing just enough to express his disgust. "Maybe you should try to sort out your priorities, Shizu-chan."

The beast rolls his eyes, hand catching one arm of Izaya's chair. "Not this again, flea. What are you so grumpy about?" He catches Izaya's glare, challenging it with a stupidly curious look. "I know you don't give up any chance to kiss me, so what's the deal?"

Izaya hates that the beast just can't lie to save his tongue. In this position, he could easily bring his foot up and kick Shizuo right where it hurts, but then the throb that's lining itself in the blood of his groin would have to be put off from being satiated. And that's not so fun, even if watching his boyfriend go down in pain would be.

"If you can't recall that you _left,_" he spits, voice rattling into a hiss with the bite of his teeth clicking in a snap of his jaw. "Then it's hopeless. _You're _hopeless if you think that you can just satisfy with kissing me when you feel like."

Shizuo glances at him inquisitively, lips tugging into a sort of smile that only makes Izaya's tongue curl in bitterness. Then when he hears the beast laugh and press forward to kiss him he pushes himself back, spinning the chair to the side before coming to stand away from his desk. Watching the beast, he makes himself only harder to ignore when he starts to advance, watching Izaya with the look of a predator that does _not _make a shudder of excitement race down his spine. No, that would be completely laughable.

"So that's what you want, huh?" Shizuo glances at him under his bangs falling in his face, not looking like the nice Santa-san that delivers gifts to good and bad children. Huh, what a strange perverted Santa-san in his place. But with each step forward Izaya takes one back, knowing the layout of his apartment well enough to have no need to look back or watch his step. He knows what he's doing, and this is just another game of chase. "You made me late to work this morning, but you're not satisfied because I didn't want to be your pillow?" Laughter forces Izaya eyes to narrow, a hiss at the set edge of his teeth. "Typical of you. I tell you I love you every day and you're still not satisfied."

The light brush of color on Izaya's face, most notably directed to his ears, is more than telling. When he's silent, Shizuo knows he's right. And the smug part of him likes to bask in gloating about knowing just exactly how to make his boyfriend flush a pretty shade of red.

"As if Shizu-chan could ever satisfy me!" Izaya turns on his heels, calling over his shoulder as he starts to dart to the couch where he doesn't know what Shizuo's planned but he knows by the thump of feet behind him that the chase is on. Adrenaline surges through his veins, singing in a familiar pulse of his heart starting to pound against his ribcage. A surge of energy is what keeps him from being caught by his boyfriend as soon as he hits the couch cushions, leaping over the back after noticing a strange purple and black design sitting on the couch.

Shizu-chan was carrying something when he came down, now that Izaya thinks back to it. But wasn't paying attention, since sparing his attention for the trivial things isn't what he's known for.

For now it's trying to escape Shizu-chan, growling behind him as he closes in on Izaya and Izaya's already heading up the steps, having made a mocking lap around the first floor because he can and Shizu-chan isn't smart enough to predict where he's going next. By the time he hits the stairs, however, the beast is gaining on him and he can barely hear over the blood pounding in his ears as he keeps trying to get away.

What he doesn't expect is the sudden grasp of fingers around his ankle, pulling him down as he moves to the next step which results in the trigger of the next chain of events. It only takes a split second to realize he's not going anywhere and there is no stable ground beneath him, slipping and falling before he can brace himself against the wooden steps and slams into it with an agonizing crack coming from his jaw. The wind is already knocked out of him as soon as he hits, sliding on the steps and caught by the hand that was once around his ankle as his thoughts jumble and slip from his train of thought with the ringing of the snap of his teeth coming together painfully.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Arms are around him, carefully picking him up and cradling his jaw with excessive gentleness. Izaya's eyes must be closed because he doesn't see or feel being lifted up off the steps, cradled in a monster's arms and carried to the couch. "Izaya, are you okay? Shit, you weren't supposed to fall, damn it."

The warm leather of the couch greets the back of his head, adding a source of clarity when Izaya pulls himself out of his dizzy haze, moaning softly as his hand comes up to rub at his jaw. The second he notices Shizu-chan watching him he shoots his boyfriend a halfhearted glare, blinking to clear away the sting of his nerves firing where his jaw is surely bruising and his brain is rattling inside of his head.

"So mean, Shizu-chan," Izaya adds a little more drama because it's _necessary _to make the beast suffer, watching with thorough satisfaction as Shizuo frowns while Izaya pulls himself up, rubbing at the painful mark already swelling in his jaw.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." Shizuo looks like a lost puppy, biting his lower lip in his usual unconscious reaction to guilt and pulling off the hurt look with a bit too much of experience to make it work. "You okay?" Carefully he reaches out, fingers cradling Izaya's jaw and brushing the skin that isn't swelling into a prickling red. But he doesn't wait for an answer, moving aside to grab the strange material of black and purple and the next thing Izaya notices with that devilish look in his boyfriend's eyes he's pinned down, finding himself stuffed into—not _this _again—the only stupid set of pajamas that he thought he had gotten rid of. Apparently not, but resistance at this point is futile and he won't say it's warmer than what he's already wearing. But he'll whine and protest, which he's good at, and make the guilt so much more when the beast is done messing with him and pulling the dragon hood over his head.

"...Why this, Shizu-chan?" Izaya glances tiredly at the dragon suit, not feeling amused at all. Shizu-chan looks hurt and entertained; something that Izaya decides he'll have to get revenge for.

But the beast doesn't let him go without for long, sliding next to him on the sofa and adjusting Izaya like a _doll _to lie in his lap over him, stretched out comfortably and still wary of Izaya's jaw and ribs when he gets the informant-turned-dragon to lie on him. Luckily enough for him Izaya doesn't have any knives on him, a terrible mistake, and he's not about to give up any source of affection if he can guilt trip it out of Shizu-chan.

At a price, but that's just how business is.

"You looked cold, and you can't be serious when you're a dragon." Shizu-chan and his protozoan logic. Ah, how he hasn't missed it. "I said I was sorry, what else do you want?"

So maybe the Christmas festivities can be held off for a little while, because Izaya has plenty of things he wants attended to. Taking what he can will have to suffice. Shizu-chan gets the idea, as soon as Izaya rolls his eyes and hovers over his lips, waiting for his boyfriend to give him what he's been deprived of.

"Oh, so it's like that?" Shizu-chan's arms come around him and talking is pretty painful, but kissing isn't a bad thing at all if it's lips caressing his, careful to make him not move as much with the headache already forming but already finding ways to slip his hands inside of Izaya's dragon suit. Not fair—but he's been waiting too long for this.

"Figured it out yet?" Izaya breaks apart, warm and buzzing and he's sure it's not the pain anymore, not when Shizu-chan's eyes are wider and watching him with an attentive eagerness. "Because I have a few ways you can make it up to me, as long as you take off this ridiculous suit and the one you're wearing, perverted Santa-san." Shizuo's lips curve into a smile, making it harder to steady his resolve.

"I'm not perverted, I'm night Santa." The zipper starts to tug on Izaya's suit, pulling down to his waist where Shizuo's monster hands can slip inside and massage his boyfriend's sides in teasing strokes, bunching up his clothes instead of going underneath where they should be. "Giving presents to the bastard who deserves them the least."

Izaya laughs, holding himself away from another kiss and he knows Shizu-chan doesn't like how bold he's getting now. Serves him right. "Mmh, then I want to see what ero-Santa has to offer, ne? Make sure I get what I'm worth." His groin starts to stir up once again, Shizu-chan's legs shifting and the rub of a half-hard erection underneath his suit is more than an indication that he's on the right track. Good, since he's tired of Shizu-chan taking forever to make up his mind.

"Love you too, you little shit." Shizuo's lips are on his again, rougher and prying his mouth open to steal Izaya's breath and eventually his tongue, lazy strokes and sucks making it hard to focus and Izaya figures he should be pampered for once. After all, doing all the work isn't as fun when Shizu-chan can make up for his guilt. And with the hands traveling down the waistband of Izaya's pants, he's on his way to making up for his insolence.

"Ah..." Fingers circling around him, warm lips covering his and he doesn't even have to try, since Shizuo is doing all the work. "Shizuo..." The beast laughs into his mouth, a dark chuckle that directs itself down a shaky path of catching the ridges of his spine. Now he's reminding himself of what he wanted before, especially because his skin is hot and he's been in a sour mood all day. Only this is just fine, seeing as he can't bring himself to do anything else when Shizu-chan is being so considerate to treat him like the god he is.

There's plenty of time to unwrap presents tomorrow, ne?

* * *

_Forgot to add this chapter, apologies._

_Thank you for reading._


	26. Massage Therapy

"You're too stiff," Shizuo complains the moment he latches onto Izaya, pulling him into an awkward hug from behind. This becomes a ritual, almost, with every time Shizuo coming back to Izaya's apartment—well, it _was—_this happens.

"Get off me, Shizu-chan." Izaya squirms in Shizuo's arms, tensed and probably irritated because Shizuo hasn't kissed him yet. It's a guess, with the last times having led to the same conclusion, it's a good one too. "Shizu-chan, let go of me you stupid ape."

"And if I don't?" Too _tight—_all of a sudden there's a crack, dull and popping from somewhere in Izaya's back and then they both hear a loud snap coming from the informant. Izaya whines, under his breath and barely audible compared to the fact that _that_ just came from him.

Immediately Shizuo relinquishes some of his grasp, keeping Izaya standing close enough to feel the aftershocks of trembling where muscles are starting to protest under his skin. They're silent, more so because of Shizuo's brain trying to figure out what exactly he just heard.

"Shizu-chan, let go of me already," Izaya hisses, twisting with sudden jerks hindering his escape as a series of pops come from his spine–it sounds like his spine is collapsing–and he groans, huffing an uneven sigh. But by how strained he sounds just to strangle a gasp that slips by, Shizuo has no plans of release anytime soon.

Just one brush of his hand over Izaya's shoulder has his boyfriend gasping, worsened to a whine scraped off his teeth when Shizuo presses slightly into a hard knot. This confirms his thoughts, shifting his hold carefully as to not cause the idiot–who's the idiot now–even more pain.

"What the hell have you been doing all day?" Shizuo's dragging Izaya toward the couch, not buts or complaints registered as Izaya reluctantly follows. Not like he has much of a choice.

"Would you just listen for once?" Izaya snaps by the time they're standing over the sofa, lowered down with the gentle pressure that's not supposed to hurt him in between his shoulders. Seeing as there's not much of a chance otherwise to protest, it's wise to go with Shizuo, who doesn't like what he's seeing or hearing.

It's just like him to act like that. So maybe Izaya's been leaning over his desk too long and is a little stiff. Nothing to get man-handled for, no?

"How about I listen," the bastard presses gently, just one finger into the small of Izaya's back and Izaya's seeing stars, choking over a low, painful groan. "When you stop doing this to yourself?

Hands hover above Izaya's shoulder blades, threatening close and Izaya, knowing by now Shizu-chan happens to have a sadistic streak, starts to squirm. "But that's not n-necessary, Shizu-chan—ow!"

Fingers carefully knead into hard flesh, muscles tensing and quivering under Shizuo's touch. Izaya's holding his breath, he can feel it in every hiccup when he pauses, smoothing his hands over Izaya's shirt before he reaches underneath.

"Don't move," Shizuo grunts, slapping away Izaya's hands before pinning them down under Izaya's chest. Before Izaya gets the chance to move he positions himself on top of his boyfriend, straddles him and hears Izaya grumble something along the lines of "kinky".

Moments of silence pass, as soon as Shizuo hears the loud crack of carefully working around a knot at the nape of his boyfriend's neck. Izaya's quietly appeased, occasionally stifling grunts of pain when Shizuo's too rough. Even though he knows the beast isn't trying to be, which explains why his touch is so ginger on his bare flesh when his shirt finds itself removed and on the floor.

"Aah, Shizu…" Izaya moans into his arm, lifting his head to breathe until Shizuo hands him a pillow. He works his way back to Izaya's throat, rubbing and massaging the kinks in between his bones carefully.

Normally Izaya would be making fun of him right about now, but he's strangely silent.

And then something taps on Shizuo's thigh, shortly before it crawls into one of his hands and laces fingers in between his.

When Shizuo hears another soft moan as he uses one hand over Izaya's shoulders, he leans forward, just so to catch the rise of Izaya's head and the lips coming to greet his.

At least they can both unwind from this. "Love you," Shizuo says, customary after every kiss. After a while, Izaya stops complaining about it. Sometimes he says it back.

Izaya smiles secretively, tightening his hand in Shizuo's.

* * *

_Working on making my second style simpler, how does it look? Hopefully more people will like it, since my first, more wordy one, isn't all that great. Also, this is a prompt request on my tumblr, where you can ask me to write something for you if you'd like. Thank you all for waiting patiently for me, I've been in a rut for quite some time and it's been hard getting any motivation to write._

_Thank you for reading._


	27. Language Barriers

_"F-fuck," _Izaya gasps in stuttered, perfect English, throat exposed as his head tilts back further with his boyfriend's lips on him. Shizuo nips at his Adam's apple, licking and sucking while Izaya's hand tightens in his hair.

"So fucking sexy," Shizuo pulls back to pull Izaya's eyes back to him, shining clear with want and his reflect the predatory marks forming on Izaya's pale, beautiful skin. "You know what you're doing too, you little shit." Then he purposely avoids Izaya's lips, pursed and pouting and red from how long he's been biting and licking them as Shizuo deliberately makes him squirm.

"M-merde, j-je suis impatient…" another low, guttural moan breaks past his chapped lips, spurring Shizuo's biting on with a harder nip, teeth sinking into his flesh where his throat bobs and his breath cuts off sharply. He knows exactly what he's doing, the little bastard, and he _knows_ just how much it turns Shizuo on when he speaks in foreign languages.

Which makes a fun game out of teasing Izaya and getting to hear strange words roll off Izaya's tongue like the silk ribbons Shizuo uses in the bedroom. He's thinking reverse ebi position may do for later, if he can even wait that long before he needs more.

"C'mon," it's strange when Izaya falls silent, Shizuo glancing back up from his assault on the pale throat to catch Izaya's eyes slipping to slits, body alight with trembling. He doesn't notice Shizuo watching him, devouring him in a single glance until his boyfriend clears his throat. "What other languages do you speak, huh, flea?"

The first time he heard Izaya speaking Russian, he decided there would come a day where he could exact revenge for having an erection in public. While chasing the bastard responsible.

Except Izaya's silent now, biting hard on his lower lip as a trickle of blood makes its way down his chin. Shizuo will give him that he's outrageously stubborn, but this time he's not about to let Izaya have his way from just a little pouting.

This calls for drastic measures.

Shizuo's hand slips under the hem of Izaya's shirt, tracing slow paths up Izaya's stomach where he lingers, tracing the quiver of muscles and thumbing his boyfriend's belly button, exactly where he knows Izaya's ticklish. From there he climbs up and strokes the hard feel of ribs just beneath his flesh, devoid of any fat from his obsessively healthy lifestyle. Meanwhile, Shizuo's lips climb up Izaya's throat, butterfly kisses to his boyfriend's clenched jaw until he makes his way underneath Izaya's ear, hovering above the spot as he hears a clenched sigh shudder behind the cage of ribs.

Just when Izaya thinks Shizuo's going to stop—that's a stupid idea to have, especially for him—fingers circle his nipple, rubbing and brushing against his sensitized flesh. All before he goes in for the kill, pinching hard at the same time he bites the skin under Izaya's ear, the exact patch of skin where Izaya's too sensitive to hold back his voice.

"Стоп! Пожалуйста…" he nearly screams it in Russian, his hand so tight in Shizuo's hair it's starting to burn where his fingers dig at the roots. "不再," he moans as his jaw works against his teeth, his boyfriend worrying the flesh under his ear and massaging his nipple.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch that." He stops too soon, coming to a complete halt of kissing and biting and pulling where the air forces itself out of Izaya's lungs and he's panting, almost sobbing in desperation at this point.

Maybe he's being a little mean–no, no way. But by the look of sheer frustration plastered on Izaya's face, making him look drunk on just touch alone, it's probably more effective than Shizuo thought it would be. Even now, most of his body weight leans on his boyfriend, held closely to him while Izaya struggles to keep himself standing.

"Non puoi farmi questo, non é giusto!" Izaya's nearly incoherent, babbling in Shizuo's ear as his other arm fists itself into the fabric of Shizuo's shirt, anchoring him there. More spills from his lips, desperate and clawing as he's so close to losing it, Shizuo actually starts to feel just a tiny bit guilty.

He palms Izaya's nipple, carefully rolling and pinching the tender flesh to get Izaya's attention back to him, babbling starting to trail off but still there. His entire body aches, Shizuo can tell by how he's barely standing, barely keeping himself together because he's a good boyfriend who knows all of the spots to take Izaya apart.

"Izaya," Shizuo murmurs, capturing Izaya's eyes and watching the haze clear as he keeps his boyfriend centered. "Is there something you want to tell me…?"

Izaya snaps out of some of his confusion, long enough to glare at Shizuo halfheartedly. He doesn't deny the burning in his eyes, watching the way Shizuo looks him over, his hand supporting Izaya and pulling him close enough to stand on his feet.

As long as Izaya pouts, Shizuo rolls his eyes. "Fine, you bastard. I'll say it first. I love you." He just wants to hear one little thing, that's all. Something to fuel teasing Izaya more without feeling as guilty—or letting Izaya know he does.

Izaya blinks, slow and unsteady, before returning his gaze back to Shizuo, making a point of staring at his lips and swallowing a breath before he licks his lips once again. They're going to get even more chapped if he doesn't knock it off, but it's still undeniably sexy when Shizuo watches.

"Te amo," he swallows, jaw moving as if he's going to say more but he doesn't, tongue still and heavy with the saliva trickling down his cheek. _"Shizuo." _

Shizuo decides, sealing the deal with a much-needed hungry kiss, that he likes his name rolling off of Izaya's tongue the best.

* * *

_Translations: "M-Merde, je suis impatient..." - Shit, I'm impatient/I can't wait_  
_"Стоп! Пожалуйста…" - Stop! Please..._  
_"不再," - No more,_  
_"__Non puoi farmi questo, non é giusto!" - You can't do this to me it's not fair!_  
_Te amo - I love you._

_Please let me know if I made any translation errors or messed up on the languages. _

_Thank you for reading._


	28. Cockblocking

"Rel-aah—x, Shizu-chan," Izaya sighs, tugging at his boyfriend's shirt because the damn thing should be on the ground, not covering up the abs rippling under his fingertips. Shizuo never pays attention, preoccupied now with the fact Izaya's brother is here and he doesn't want to make too much noise. "Not like he's going to care, st-stop thinking about him." He trails his lips down Shizuo's strong jaw, loving the scratch of slight stubble when Shizuo forgets to shave in the mornings.

"Tch, easy for you to say," Shizuo grumbles, pulling into a short kiss that becomes two more, already falling victim to how good Izaya tastes. "But when he's here, he doesn't _shut up._"

Okay, so good point there. Undisputed, because Izaya knows how much his twin brother, younger by a minute, likes to eavesdrop when he's trying to be intimate his boyfriend. Or follows them on their dates, proclaiming how bored he is and that Izaya should share Shizuo.

If there's one thing they don't share, it's boyfriends. Shizuo, to be exact. The only thing Izaya will never share because damn it, Shizuo is_ his_ and Psyche can go get his own boyfriend. No matter how identical they are, Izaya still has his redeeming qualities.

Psyche, on the other hand, is shameless.

His chest bare and under assault from Shizuo's fingers at his sides, Izaya coaxes Shizuo over him, lying back on the bed with Shizuo's hands sliding him toward the pillows before he climbs on top.

Where Izaya's stiffen at his sides, Shizuo grabs one, bringing it to his lips and holding Izaya's gaze as he kisses each knuckle, whispering Izaya's own words back to him with a charming and devilish smirk.

"Relax, I-za-ya-kun," Shizuo's tongue darts out to lick a delicate bone at Izaya's wrist, kissing the palm shortly after. "We can go as slow as you want, no rush." As much as he'd rather not admit, the reassurance combined with the soft, warm look in his boyfriend's eyes makes him release the breath he hasn't realized he's been holding.

Shizuo smiles sweetly, just a flash of boyish charm and Izaya's breath is caught again, only to be dispelled by the sensation of lips feathering kisses at his hips. His boyfriend keeps one hand in Izaya's, rubbing his thumb over bony knuckles and the other brushing over ribs, stalking its way up to a nipple.

Suddenly a crash has his former relaxation jarring, Izaya's teeth grinding with his lips pressing into a grisly frown. With one move he's up and Shizuo's off him, glancing questioningly at the door while Izaya pulls on his shirt, sighing to himself with distaste.

"Let me go see what the idiot's done now," he excuses himself, the burn in his cheeks still prevalent as he scolds himself mentally, turning away from his boyfriend who nods, too trusting for his own good. The door clicks shut behind him, echoes of footsteps fading down the hall and stairway until Shizuo can't hear him anymore.

Reclining on the bed, Shizuo closes his eyes, trying to distract himself from the nuisance he comes to know as Psyche. Not that Izaya's twin is any worse—they're equally a pain in the ass. All he knows is that Psyche's practically identical, save for his personality which is an exact opposite of Izaya's. Despite the enormous difference between them, no one seems to be able to tell them apart, not even Celty.

And all the offers, joking or no he's not really sure, of sharing him between the two tend to make Shizuo a little peeved. He's not one for sharing, no matter if it's Izaya's twin brother who offers himself so easily. Izaya laughs it off, but sometimes he can see the irritation at his younger brother who just doesn't know when to quit.

Interrupting his thoughts with the sound of the door clicking open, Izaya steps back in, shutting the door behind himself and throwing the lock. Shizuo catches something in the air, decidedly off about him, but doesn't comment.

"My brother's an idiot," Izaya huffs, striding back to the bed when Shizuo offers a hand, taking it as soon as he can reach, slipping back onto the bed. He hesitates, looking unsure for a moment and he tightens his hold on Shizuo's hand, prompting a gentle squeeze back.

His boyfriend's quiet for a few more moments before he catches Shizuo's eyes, the start of a smirk on his lips as he leans back and tugs for Shizuo to follow. Which the blond does eagerly, holding himself above Izaya as he slips a hand under his shirt to capture the warmth of his skin amongst the nervous jump of his stomach muscles.

But this time he slows, deciding to stretch out further, brushing his lips on pale collarbone. His lips trail dry kisses, barely there as he slows his way up Izaya's throat, under his jaw and then comes to his ear, lingering.

Izaya exhales a breath—right as Shizuo's hand comes to rest on his side, the other still locked in his fingers. He keeps his lips on Izaya's ear, inhaling silently.

"You're not Izaya, _Psyche._"

Psyche makes a noise of surprise, muffled by the sudden yelp when Shizuo pinches his side and pins his hands down in a flash. Outside he hears Izaya, angrily calling for his brother as he makes his way up the steps.

"But how'd you…?" Psyche stares in bewilderment up at Shizuo, squirming when Shizuo pinches him harder, enough to bruise and lets out a whine of complaint. "That's not fair, you weren't supposed to know!"

"Psyche!" Izaya knocks on the door once, finding it to be locked and swearing under his breath. "I'm going to string you up by your ankles and feed you to the yakuza when I'm done with you." His anger engulfs his voice, meaning Shizuo knows exactly how pissed off he is and holds some resentment toward Psyche himself.

Behind the door is dead silent, save for the click of the lock coming undone and Shizuo slaps a hand over Psyche's mouth, more than a little fed up with his antics.

Izaya's inside in less than a second later, coolly composed and Shizuo can feel his anger radiating from where he sits, Izaya's twin brother at the hands of his wrath. When he sees them his eyes narrow to slits, traveling to the hand over Psyche's mouth and the incessant muffled squirming that comes with the increased anger squeezing into Izaya's clenched fingers.

"Get out, Psyche." He nods to Shizuo who lets him go, eyes on him as Psyche makes protest but he doesn't hear a word of it. Not now, when he's got a thirst for blood and with a particular taste in his twin's. Before Psyche can leave, Izaya catches his arm, pulling him close and effectively silencing his argument. "Don't touch my boyfriend again, or I'm going to defenestrate you from this apartment floor. Am I clear?"

"Fine, fine," Psyche rolls his eyes, chirping an oddly cheerful goodbye to Shizuo who pointedly ignores him, the door slamming shut in his face by Izaya's hands.

Silence blankets the room, Izaya's eyes staring at the wall in the corner and Shizuo watches, unhappy with how angry his boyfriend looks. He doesn't have to even voice it, Shizuo knows when Izaya's fed up with his brother and seething with murderous intent.

"Hey," Shizuo gets up from the bed, coming to pull Izaya into him with one hand and stroke his cheek with the other. "I knew it was him from the start."

This somehow appeases Izaya, who loses his marred look of anger for confusion when he glances up at Shizuo, leaning into the touch of his boyfriend's palm. "Oh?"

"Psyche doesn't smell like you, at all." Shizuo elaborates, completely serious. It earns a laugh from Izaya, reluctantly spreading at first but then uncontrollable as he bursts into a fit of giggles, Shizuo kissing him in between breaths.

"Of course," Izaya laughs, rolling his eyes as he goes for another kiss, slower and longer this time instead of the chaste pecks from before. "You beast, only you would do that."

And he would, especially if it makes his boyfriend laugh.

* * *

_Another tumblr prompt, thank you anonymous for this. _

_Thank you for reading._


	29. Caught in Crossroads

This can't be happening.

From one horrified look of his client to the ground shaking beneath his feet, he's sure that this cannot, should not, and could never happen.

And yet here he is, frozen in place in the middle of trying to have a business deal with a new client, dressed _appropriately _in his client's type of business and pleasure. Provided with some makeup, a skirt, and a wig that's just his hair color. Really, it's not supposed to be something where it's noticeable that he's maybe not quite a girl but he's passable, his flat chest being one of those issues he hasn't cared much to deal with.

Oh, if only he invested in it before—no, it wouldn't do anything to save him. Not with this sort of monster that scents him and stalks him like a beast in some remote area of Ikebukuro, in the middle of a _very_ bad time.

"I-za-ya!" Shizuo's voice booms from across the street, sending humans in all directions away from the source. Izaya's client stiffens in terror, eyes widening nearly to burst from his skull and in a spell of bitter humor, Izaya wouldn't mind having the extra entertainment. Added onto this afternoon, it's certainly better than this.

"You shitty fucking flea," Shizuo roars, growing close and Izaya readies his hand for a blade in his pocket, shifting his legs as his skirt flutters uselessly with the movement. The client keeps looking at him, mouth gaping wide like he's expecting an answer or why Kanra isn't afraid of this animalistic display.

"What the hell are you doing?" It hits Izaya like a vending machine. The sudden quieter tone, still loud and angry, but diffused like a bomb's wires cut. Possibly explosive, though calmer and albeit too much so for Izaya to keep from swallowing hard. His luck is just the worst, it seems.

"What do you mean, Shizu-chan?" Izaya swallows his words, voice pitching higher to be Kanra-chan's and inwardly berating himself.

But then Shizuo is far too quiet for his liking, enough to hear the strangled cry of desperation from the fool sitting next to him. "Wh-What is going on, K-Kanra-chan? I-I don't see _the_ Orihara anywhere…!"

Bad thing to say at a time like this.

Shizuo's eyes move to the trembling idiot, taking him in with no consideration, as if swatting off a fly. "Who's this asshole, Kanra_-chan?_" Izaya watches from the corner of his eye, bringing up a stinging string of curses to wrap around his tongue to keep it stilled, if only to live for a moment longer. "'Cause I thought we had a _date_ today, since it's our _anniversary._"

Oh, _fuck._

"Now if you'll excuse me, Kanra-chan and I have a date to get to." If the guy's not convinced by now, the glare Shizuo sends him drives the point straight through his forehead where it could possibly kill him. In a small, small, percentage, but still, it's worthy to consider. _"Scram."_

The client won't look at Izaya as he bolts, knocking over the table and leaving as quickly as possible as others start to gather, watching after having already left the outdoor restaurant. Patrons inside barricade themselves behind tables in horror, morbidly curious as to what the beast of Ikebukuro would be doing to a woman.

Not an ordinary woman, not at least when Shizuo glances at Izaya, from shoes to his face and sneers, crushing the cigarette he pulls from his mouth. Izaya stands, defiantly staring back into the face of death and holding back a laugh of delight and disgust.

"The fuck do you think you're doing, looking like a painted whore?" Ouch. One glance toward the remaining people and Shizuo only huffs, eying Izaya's outfit with distaste. "You really know how to be a pest, don't you. But dressing like that, don't even know what you're after."

"Then it's best you don't, Shizu-chan," Izaya hisses back, vaguely uncomfortable with the stares and people taking out their cell phones to record such a moment. They'll probably catch his death on their shitty cameras, too. "That was my _client,_ you stupid beast. Someone more important than you could ever hope to be."

"Good thing I don't aim high then," Shizuo drawls, stepping closer and Izaya knows there's nowhere to run, cornered with his knees backing into a stone bench. "'Cause if I did, you'd already be dead."

The look in his eyes is unsettling with the tone of his voice, the curve of his smirk that shouldn't be there and Izaya's concerned that monsters are all too cunning when they're hiding something important when his life is at stake.

"What are you—mmph!" In a matter of moments hot breath covers his mouth and his hands are restrained, left to the feel of searing eyes on them as cameras are undoubtedly snapping photos. His own humiliation, free for entertainment as a monster _kisses_ him in broad daylight in front of all these people.

Dying, Izaya finds, would be a much better option than this.

When Shizuo pulls away, his hand is still in one of Izaya's, where there also happens to be a folded knife. With one look meaning _don't even try _Izaya kills any sense of pride that he's ever felt in the sheer embarrassment of this.

"Let's go have our date, Izaya-chan," Shizuo snickers, failing to notice the red creeping its way up Izaya's cheeks.

* * *

_Oh Izaya, you'll never learn._

_Thank you for reading._


End file.
